Plot summary - The one where Danny and Rusty are in foster care. Rusty is being brutalized; Danny feels helpless.
One shot, not Plums 'verse.
Rated M
Warnings for violence, language, violence, child abuse of all types and more violence. Off screen death of OC, which is only relevant because it's why one of the boys is in care.
Hurt/ comfort/angst/ implied rape
A/N - It's not nice. Not really sure where this came from, except maybe I am worried that Plums isn't gritty enough. I'll get back to that 'verse now that this little horror has been exorcised.
The last straw was finding the underpants. He'd been looking for a misplaced comic book, checking under Rusty's bed to see if it could be there. When his flashlight caught the underpants, he grimaced. There would be hell to pay if Mrs. West found dirty clothes on the floor. He grabbed them to toss in the laundry, but stopped cold. Blood stained the white cotton. Danny's heart stopped. No,no,no,no.
Earlier that day...
Danny and Rusty were sitting on the edge of Danny's bed in the room they shared at the Wests, their foster home. 10 year old Rusty had been here for 2 months, bouncing around the system for a year or so. He'd been removed from his home after his mother tried to kill them both by taking a bunch of sleeping pills and shoving a dish towel in the car exhaust with the motor running. She only partly succeeded. Rusty survived because he'd only pretended to take the pills and then crawled out of the car after his mom passed out. He'd tried to drag her out too, but he wasn't strong enough. He watched her choke to death. Rusty's stepfather told him he wished Rusty'd died instead of his mother and refused to have anything to do with him.
Danny was new to the system. His father had just gone to prison and there was no other known family. He was 13 and "having trouble adjusting." He held out hope that a long lost relative would appear and take him away. Danny was hopeful like that.
At the moment, Danny was trying to explain to Rusty why he really, really did not want to go with his social worker to visit his father. The younger boy looked up at him with huge blue eyes and nodded seriously.
"I get it Danny. But if you argue, the Wests won't like it. When you get back, they'll punish you bad manners." His lower lip trembled, remembering his own, frequent, punishments: the ice cold water, the belt, the darkness afterwards.
"I don't want that to happen to you." He took Danny's hand, squeezed determinedly. "Just go. You don't have to talk long. Just enough so they leave you alone for a month." Until next time.
In the end, he didn't have a choice. But for the rest of his life, he wish he'd refused, fought, kicked and screamed and punched to stay with Rusty.
Previously...
Alleged bad manners was the reason West had Rusty bent over a table in the basement the day Danny arrived . Slapping a thick, black, leather belt ominously against his thigh, he licked his lips in anticipation of hearing blondie scream. The thought of it made him hard. He caressed the leather.
Manners...West informed Rusty that he hadn't been properly appreciative of the food Mrs West served at lunch. And enough with the lies about a stomach ache. West doesn't put up with miserable liars. So after forcing Rusty to choke down the casserole, with nothing to drink, and watching him clean up the lunch dishes, West marched him downstairs to the room in the basement. Rusty was sweating at this point. Whether from the stomach bug (he hadn't been lying!) or from anxiety, he couldn't tell.
If he could just control his mouth. He knew how it went. That he just had to be quiet, play the game, be polite and bide his time here. Maybe get a better place soon. Like he'd had with the Parsons, before Mrs P broke her hip and needed to go to the rehab facility. He remembered homemade waffles, a warm quilt, gentle hands brushing his hair. He sniffed What? When had tears started?
Of course West thought the tears were because he was afraid. And it just egged him on. It turned him on. "Those sissy tears won't help you, boy." He laughed cruelly and he brought the belt down on Rusty's bare thighs. The crack startled him more than the pain. He bit his lip, but didn't close his eyes. Checking out just made West hit longer and harder. He'd learned that the hard way.
Eventually, West wore himself out. No broken skin, this time, but the pain was bad and Rusty just wanted to get upstairs and put a cold washcloth on his legs. He pulled his pants back on, cringing as the denim brushed against the welts. Stomach still churning, he forced himself to walk slowly up the stairs (no running in the house!) to his attic room. Luckily there was an adjoining bathroom. He just hoped to make it before he threw up. He didn't want to think about the whipping he'd get if he threw up on the floor.
He made it. Barely. Stomach heaving, he threw up the disgusting casserole, retching until he was empty. He rested his head on the cool porcelain. Panting softly. Don't let them hear. Be quiet.
Now that his stomach felt better, the pain was really bad. He gingerly peeled off his jeans. His legs were throbbing. He bit his lip. All he wanted to do was put on some loose boxer shorts, and lay on his stomach with a cool cloth. Impossible. He tried putting the wash clothes on his legs and then laying down, but the rags kept slipping. Eventually he abandoned them and just flung himself on the narrow bed. For once he didn't have to worry about being caught "malingering". A new boy was arriving today and he'd already been warned to keep quiet and stay out of sight.
Somehow, despite the burning pain, Rusty fell asleep.
Danny suffered through the introductions and the social niceties by concentrating on a large crucifix hanging on the wall above a needlepoint sampler that declared, "Spare the rod and spoil the child. Great. Just great.
Finally it was done and Cindy was gathering up the paperwork and her purse.
"Ok, Danny," she chirped. "I'll see you in a few weeks when we go to visit your dad, Ok?"
She knew he never wanted to see that man ever again, but he knew better than to make her look bad in front of the Wests.
"Ok. Good-bye, Cindy." He didn't have to wax poetic about it, just be polite.
After she left, West looked him up and down.
"Well, boy. Normally we don't hold with lazing about. You'll have chores. Hard work builds character. But you consider yourself lucky that Mrs. West has an errand to run and I have important business to attend. So we will be out of the house this afternoon. Doors will remain locked at all times. No television. Am I understood? Good. Take your bag upstairs and stay out of trouble."
Well. He knew there wasn't going to be a welcome party, but that was a bit rude. But actually he was relieved at being left alone, so he just nodded and headed upstairs.
He opened the door and took in his new home. Attic room, small with slanted ceiling. A small narrow window overlooked the street. Twin bed, unmade, but with shabby linens piled at the foot. Cheap particle board dresser. The floor was bare, painted wood, peeling in the high traffic areas. A door led into a tiny bathroom with a toilet, sink and old fashioned tub. No shower. At the other end of the attic, a curtain acted as a kind of divider.
Danny walked over and yanked back the curtain. He gaped at the sight of a small blond boy curled up on a bed, twin to his own. He was asleep, but not resting. He tossed and turned like he was caught up in a nightmare. Danny didn't know what to do. You weren't supposed to wake up people when they were dreaming, were you? Or was that sleep walking? Danny had suffered his share of bad dreams since the arrest and would have been relieved if somebody woke him up . And he didn't think he could just walk away while this kid was obviously not in a good way.
So Danny gingerly sat on the edge of the bed and touched the boy's shoulder. His skin felt hot, feverish. The kid moaned and flinched away from the touch. He gave him a little shake. "Hey, it's ok. It's just a bad dream. Wake up now."
His eyelids snapped open and Danny was staring into the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. "Hey, hey it's ok. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream." He felt oddly protective of this kid. It was a new feeling. Not bad...not bad at all. Just. Strange.
He kept talking, keeping his voice low and soothing, the way he'd talk to his cat when she'd climb up in the plum tree and forget how to come down. "Hey. I'm Danny. I'm the new guy here. I guess we'll be roommates. That should be cool." The blond's breathing had settled down and the wild, desperate look was leaving his eyes. His blue, blue eyes. "You ok now?" The boy nodded. "You wanna tell me your name?"
The kid nodded and licks his lips. They looked dry and cracked. "Hang on a sec" Danny got up an looked around in the bathroom. He found a small plastic cup with a toothbrush in it. He rinsed it and filled it up with tap water. The water didn't get very cold, and smelled a little bit like sulfur, but Danny figured it would have to do.
He took it back into the bedroom and handed it to the kid. He'd sat up and was trying to wrap the sheet around himself. Danny smiled and said, "Don't be shy, we're gonna be roommates. I'm sure you'll see me in my boxers and pajamas soon enough. And maybe we can find a pool and go swimming. It's summer now. Here, drink this, you'll feel better."
The kid looked at the cup like he didn't recognize it. Or, more like no one had ever done anything nice for him before. Like he didn't deserve a stupid drink of water. It gave Danny a funny feeling.
"Hey, it's really ok. No big deal, right. Come one drink it." He held the cup to his lips and the boy took a sip. That seemed to snap him out of it and he grabbed the cup and gulped thirstily. "There you go. Much better, right?"
The kid wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Ouch. That bruise on fee fleshy underside of his bare arm looked painful. Well, Danny remembered being clumsy at that age too. Poor kid. Although, were those finger prints? He shook his head.
"So, let's start all over. I'm Daniel Ocean, Danny...my friends call me Danny. I am 13 and I like movies and playing cards."
"I...I'm Rusty. Rusty Ryan." He smiled shyly. "Thanks for waking me up, you know, from the ...the thing."
"Hey, no problem. Bad dreams suck."
Rusty looked at him seriously, consideringly. He nodded. "They do."
Danny stood up. "So, what should we do? The Wests are gone. You wanna show me around? What can we do for fun?
Surprise, relief and worry passed quickly over Rusty's face. "They're not here?" Danny shook his head. "Wow. That's... That's good." Danny frowned questioningly.
"It's just they can ...they can be kinda strict. She likes things just so. And Mr. West has a temper. Things can get kind of...stressful. So, it's nice when they go out for a while."
Rusty thought that Danny seemed really nice, but he'd seen kids in other homes who would pretend to be your friend and then snitch to get treats, or to avoid beatings and other punishments. So until he got to know Danny better he'd keep quiet.
"Ok, Rusty. Why don't you get dressed while I unpack. Then we'll decide what to do. "
Danny turned his back to give Rusty privacy, but when when he heard a gasp and a little moan, he instinctively turned towards his new friend. Rusty had his back to Danny and was trying to slide into a pair of jeans. He'd cried out when the welts from the whipping scraped against the rough fabric.
"What the fuck happened to you?" Danny was looking at him with horror. He was half way across the room when he realized Rusty was cringing away from him. "Hey, it's ok. It's me. I won't hurt you."
Rusty looked up, face miserable. "I ...I was rude. Bad manners. It was my punishment. I should have just eaten the stupid casserole, but my stomach was really hurting and it had okra in it and it's so slimy."
Danny tried not to look at the welts and blisters, scabs and scars covering the little boy's legs. He'd spotted a lot more bruises too. A big hand shape on on his buttocks was almost faded, but the print was still there. He saw a long red welt on Rusty's shoulder. Danny felt sick. What the hell was going on?
Danny had heard of people like the Wests before. Bullies. Doing this for the money. They'd terrorize kids for as long as they could get away with it. They usually only agreed to foster younger boys...kids Rusty's age and younger. Kids they could easily intimidate, or when, like Rusty, they weren't controlled with threats of no supper, a slap, a belt, a night locked in the basement usually did the trick.
Danny hadn't really thought it would go beyond that. That was just kids talking, wasn't it? But then he looked at the marks all over Rusty. He hated that his new friend was being hurt. He hated that they were stuck here. He hated feeling helpless. But they could hang on. He'd get out. They'd get out. They'd make it together.
West figured out pretty quickly that Rusty idolized Danny. Threatening Danny added an unforeseen and delicious element to keeping blondie under control. West just had to let Rusty catch him looking at Danny while fingering his belt and the sissy would practically piss himself. Damn funny.
The pretty little boy was an easy target. Easy enough to find fault with any ten year old: toys left on the floor, bed not made to Wests e- military standards, loud voice, an insolent look at Mrs West, not saying please and thank you with enough sincerity. Manners. They were great believers in manners.
Danny, however, was an anomaly to the Wests. Older, bigger, and more self confident than the kids they usually kept, he was harder to intimidate physically him. Somehow that kid knew West wouldn't risk it. They only agreed to foster him because they really needed the money. The social worker said it would be short term. There was some scholarship to a snooty boarding school when the summer was over. And like Danny, West held out hope that the rumors of a grateful rich uncle would pan out. They couldn't risk not getting a payout, so they didn't lay a finger on him. So they basically ignored him. Of course, Rusty didn't know that...and oh the games West could play.
The first time Danny actually witnessed Rusty getting hurt he just froze. It was at breakfast. West was in a foul mood and the boys were trying to eat quickly and escape outside. Their morning work involved stacking concrete blocks behind the garage. It was hard, heavy, pointless, but at least outside, they could talk and West would leave them be.
Danny saw it happen in slow motion. Rusty reached for his glass of milk. As he picked it up, it slipped from his grasp, falling to the tile floor and breaking. Milk and shards of glass were everywhere. Rusty looked at him in horror. West, impossibly, reached across he table and punched Rusty in the face. Blood flew as he struck him in the nose. Still Danny could not move. Rusty covered his face and started to draw away. West stood up and came around the table. He grabbed Rusty by the hair and started screaming and shaking him.
"You fucking stupid piece of crap. We pay for you to have food and drink and you just waste it! You get down on your fucking knees and clean that up right now!"
Blood dripping through his fingers, Rusty moved to obey. West pushed him, his bare knees landing on shards of glass. Danny, finally, unfroze and moved to help.
"Just stay where you are. Little shit can clean up his own mess. Besides we can't have you getting all cut up can we?" West laughed meanly. Danny felt like he was choking on his rage, but knew that anything he did would only make it worse on Rus.
So he did his best to send silent reassurance and support while Rusty, on hands and knees cleaned up the mess. Then Danny stood up and looked at West. "I'll get him cleaned up and then we'll get started outside." And he hustled Rusty up the stairs as fast as he could with the sound of Mrs West whining about blood on the stairs and Wests harsh laughter echoing in his ears.
Later, West watched the boys moving the blocks with satisfaction. That little scene at breakfast... God it was funny. The look on Ocean's face was priceless. Yeah, he wasn't going to give them any trouble. Fucking coward just sat there shaking while his friend bled. And the sight of blondie on his knees. God it was sweet. He'd had to go jerk off right then and there he'd gotten so hard. He was thinking about the kid now. On his knees, in front of him. Those lips... The sounds he'd make. Yeah.
The next time, West had Rusty trapped against the outside shed. He had a hose turned on him...some kind of industrial grade hose, bigger with more force than a regular garden hose. He was blasting Rusty with cold water, laughing with gleeful malice. Danny'd gone inside just for a few minutes to use the toilet. As soon as he reappeared, he saw West viciously aim the spray at Rusty's face. He choked and tried to avoid the water. West laughed again, looked right at Danny, daring him to intervene. One last shot and he turned off the water. He threw a dirty towel at Rusty and told him to get cleaned up. "Better not see any mud in the hall."
Danny raced over and ran his hands over Rusty's face and head, checking for injuries. "I will kill that sonofabitch!"
"It's ok Danny. I'm ok. Didn't hurt much. It was just when ... In my face. I choked and started coughing. Once I got my breath back it was..." Rusty stopped when he saw the look of utter rage on Danny's face. "I'm ok." He took Danny's hand and held it tight.
It was a symptom of how bad the situation was, that Danny actually thought that a day out with the Wests would be a good thing. He was pretty sure they wouldn't try anything in public. And if they did, Danny resolved to scream bloody murder until a security guard, or even better, a police officer showed up.
Later, Rusty would ruefully say, "That's why I love you Danny, you never give up hope." And Danny was so surprised at hearing that anyone, but especially that Rusty loved him, that he didn't think about what else Rusty might mean.
But on that day, he had been hopeful. Right up until lunchtime when West announced that he was sick of the mall and was going home to watch the baseball game. He smirked at Danny. "You. You stay with Mrs. West. Carry her packages and make sure no scumbags bother her. You, blondie, " he grabbed Rusty by the collar, " you're coming with me." And before Danny could say a single word, Rusty was dragged away, looking back helplessly at Danny.
That afternoon was the longest of Danny's life. His nerves made him irritable, and he forgot to put on a show for Mrs. West. He ignored her lectures about the decline of the American work ethic, and how the neighborhood had gone to ruin after those dirty homosexuals moved in. Danny didn't even bother to hide how she repulsed him, which was, in hindsight, another mistake.
Quick as a snake, she turned on him, her finger pointing in his face. She was close, right in his personal space, hissing viciously, "Don't you think I don't know what that little piece of trash is up to right now. Your little playmate. I know he is tempting my husband, but Bruce is a good man. He'll put that little slut in his place. The punishment always fits the crime. You mark my words."
When they got back to the house. Danny was beside himself with worry. He bundled all the packages into the house in one trip. He heard the sound of the TV coming from the living room and caught a glimpse of West lounging in a recliner, his feet propped up and beer cans spread around the floor.
He raced upstairs, dreading that he'd find his friend bruised and battered from whatever hell he'd been through while Danny was walking around the fucking mall.
He flung the door open...but there was no sign of Rusty. Not in the attic, not in the bathroom. Danny raced over to the window, but there was no sign of him in the backyard either. Really starting to panic, Danny ran (and screw the house rules) downstairs. Mrs. West looked at him like he was dung, but didn't say a word. Danny went into the living room.
"Where is he?"
Silence.
"Where is he? What have you done to Rusty?"
West slowly put down his beer. He muted the TV and stood up. He walked over to Danny and leered at him. Danny reeled back from the blast of sour breath. West was drunk. Really, really drunk. West reached out an poked Danny in the chest with a meaty finger. Poked him hard.
"You lookin for your little playmate, huh, Danny boy? You want to play? Don't blame you. He's fun that one. Fun to play with like a toy...toys are fun until they break... but the breaking can be the best part... little broken toy. But you'll have to wait your turn. It's still my turn and I Don't Share." And with that he slumped down in the easy chair and passed out.
And then Danny knew where Rusty was. Where he had to be. In the basement, in that tiny room behind the furnace. He'd never been inside, but once when he was downstairs getting a box of mouse poison for Mrs West, he glimpsed a ratty cot and a table. The door locked from the outside. The sight of that lock and that cot had chilled Danny to the core.
Now he just had to hope that West would be out cold until morning. He figured Mrs West wouldn't break her pattern of warm milk at 8 o'clock, followed by an evening listening to sermons on the radio she kept in her bedroom, so he just had to hope Rusty could hang on for a few more hours.
As soon as he heard the bedroom door click shut and the choir music start, Danny was down the stairs. He peeked into the living room. West was snoring where he'd collapsed. Danny had a small flashlight, but he tried to find his way without it. He needed it in the basement, though, which had no windows. Danny made his way to the room. He slide the deadbolt and looked inside afraid for what he would see. Even more afraid that Rusty might not be there at all. Then what would he do?
But there, huddled in a ball in the corner of the room was Rusty. He was naked. Tear tracks streaked his dirty face. He was shaking, whether from fright, exhaustion, the cold, or all three, Danny couldn't tell. His lips were cracked and swollen and he sported a new set of bruises.
Danny gathered Rusty in his arms. Jesus! He was freezing. He started rubbing his arms and back to warm him up, but Rusty just grabbed him tight and clung to him. Eventually, Danny got Rusty up the stairs and into a warm bath. Afraid to leave him alone, he slid the cheap chest of drawers against the door. It probably wouldn't stop West if he tried to break in, but at least they'd have some warning. Danny rushed back to Rusty and helped him wash off the filth. Not much blood, just dirt from the floor and something sticky...Danny gagged. "Oh, Rus, what did he do to you?"
He got Rusty out of the tub and into some comfy worn sweatpants and a soft long sleeved t shirt of Danny's. Despite it being the height of summer, he dug a pair of old wooly socks out of his drawer and pulled them on Rusty's small feet. Then Danny crawled into bed with him. He held him tight. He murmured comfort and nuzzled his hair. Eventually, Rusty stopped shivering and lay still. Danny didn't let go.
Rusty took Danny's hand and brought it to his mouth. He put Danny's fist to his bruised lip, like the feel of Danny's skin was soothing. Then, he sighed brokenly and started to talk.
When West dragged Rusty out of the mall, he thought he was in for an afternoon of being bullied and berated. He was resigned to the inevitable whipping, but vowed to himself that wasn't going to let West see how scared he was. It's just pain. He can't kill me. He can't even cause permanent damage. Even my social worker would ask too many questions over something like that.
So he was quite surprised when West steered him into the living room and pushed him down on the couch. The big, burly man sat down next to him and put one sweaty hand around the back of his neck. He gripped his neck tightly, so Rusty couldn't turn his away. Then, West turned on the TV and started pounding beers. Huh. Maybe he really did want to watch the game.
Rusty was, of course, too smart to relax his guard, but he was still expecting punches and jabs. When the assault came he was taken by surprise. West was almost through a six pack and had downed several shots of what looked like grain alcohol. He'd been stroking Rusty's head and neck, running his hand through Rusty's hair. Suddenly, he stuck his hand down Rusty's pants. Rusty froze. West fondled him roughly, hurting him, and then, all of a sudden jerked Rusty onto his knees in front of him.
Hands pulling at Rusty's hair, he forced his mouth open and shoved inside. Rusty gagged, but West kept thrusting. He choked and West pumped harder. Just as he thought his jaw was going to break, West came, spilling sour come all over Rusty's face. He rubbed it all over Rusty's face, then he backhanded him, knocking him to the floor. Rusty tried to crawl away, but West was on him, dragging him down the stairs. "I tried to get away, Danny. I tried. I tried so hard. But he's so big."
He must have hit his head on the steps, because the next thing Rusty knew he was alone, locked in the little room, naked,but mercifully alone. He tried to jimmy the lock, but his hands were shaking from the shock and he didn't have anything useful to use as a pick.
Hours passed and it got dark and he was just so cold. "When I heard the door open, I was scared it was him, but then I saw the light, and it was you. It was you, Danny, and you came for me." And then he started sobbing.
Danny held him until morning.
The next morning Danny went downstairs alone. There was no sign of West, but his wife was on the kitchen drinking a glass of something thick and greenish. Danny told her Rusty was ill. "I am going to take him some toast and tea," Danny said firmly. "I will take care of him, but we will not be down today."
She sniffed but didn't object. Danny quickly put together a tray and went back to the attic. Once again he barred the door with the chest.
Rusty had finally fallen asleep, just as the sun was rising, only a few hours ago. Danny looked at him. Asleep, he looked like an angel. Impossibly long lashes and blond curls. He was curled up in a little ball and his hand was almost at his mouth. If he stuck his thumb out, he'd be able to suck on it. He looked very, very young. Rusty moaned a little bit and turned his head. The other side of his face was black and blue from where West had smacked him. The sight of it broke Danny's heart.
They had to get out. Danny knew they had to leave. West was escalating and Danny didn't think Rus could take much more.
For the next few days, West ignored them, aside from ordering them to move heavy things pointlessly around the yard. They all ate together, in silence, and the boys immediately headed to their attic room after dinner. Every night Danny barricaded the door. Once he thought he heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, but no one tried the door.
This went on for about a week, when Cindy called to remind Danny that it was time for his monthly visit to see his father. He hated these visits in the best of times, but now, he was scared to leave Rusty alone. He didn't want Rusty to know how afraid he was, but stressed to the younger boy the importance of keeping a low profile and remaining alert.
"I will Danny. I'll be good. I have the Batman comic you gave me and I hid some crackers in my pocket. Since it's raining, West probably won't make me work outside...remember how last time Mrs West was upset about the mud? "
Danny remembered.
And in the end, he had no choice. They needed a plan. And Danny needed help. He couldn't get them out of here on his own. Cindy was useless. She'd been completely taken in by the West's Good Samaritan act. And Rusty's social worker was nowhere to be found. In the time Danny had been here, the guy hadn't once stopped by, or even called. As much as he dreaded the thought, that left one person Danny could ask for help. This was going to suck.
By the time they arrived at the prison, Danny's head was pounding. Cindy's nonstop chit chat always got on his nerves, but it was compounded with anxiety about leaving Rusty, and nerves about seeing his father.
After a long wait, they finally got through the prison security and check-in, and were in the dingy family visiting room. Ocean was a nonviolent offender (bilking wealthy retirees out of their savings was apparently not as terrible as robbing a 7-11 for drug money) so he and Danny were allowed to sit at a small table together. Cindy sat reading a People magazine across the room.
When his dad appeared, in a garish orange jumpsuit and flip flops, his thick grey streaked hair long and greasy, Danny despaired. What did he think this loser, this locked up old man could do? He kicked him self for thinking his father could help.
But then Ocean sat down, and smiled at him, and took his hand and told him how much he missed him, and how proud he was of Danny. And Danny broke down and told him everything.
Danny was so relieved at having unburdened himself that he actually agreed to Cindy's suggestion that they stop at the diner near the turnpike exit and have supper. When she saw him eyeing the racks of tourist souvenirs and toys and candy, she reminded him that he had money of his own and could pick out anything he wanted. Huh, he'd forgotten that he wasn't actually penniless. So, while they waited for their table, Danny picked out some new comic books, a pack of cards and the biggest bag of Hershey kisses in the place.
His dad had been appalled when Danny told him what was happening at the Wests. He'd been angry and frustrated, but had never once questioned Danny's veracity, or suggests that maybe Rusty "deserved it." He was honest with Danny. He said there may not be much he could do immediately from the inside, but that he'd be seeing his lawyer soon and would let her know what was happening.
So for he first time in too long, Danny felt genuinely hopeful. He couldn't wait to tell Rusty.
It was late when Cindy dropped Danny off. He thanked her, genuinely, and said good bye. Mrs. West begrudgingly let him in, after suspiciously glaring through the peephole and he headed upstairs. The room was dark, but Danny could see Rusty curled up in his bed, fast asleep. He was tossing and turning, but that wasn't unusual. Rusty was a restless sleeper, even when he wasn't having nightmares. So, Danny let him be. He could fill him in on the plan in the morning. He placed the candy and comics on Rusty's dresser and went to sleep.
He woke late the next morning. He frowned when he saw that Rusty's bed was empty and that he little boy was nowhere to be found. Usually they waited for each other before going downstairs. Danny guessed he'd really overslept and hurriedly got dressed.
West was sitting at the kitchen table. Alone. He scowled at Danny.
"Oh Sleeping Beauty finally decides to grace us with his presence."
Danny just glared at him, "Where's Rusty?"
West went very, very still. For a minute Danny actually though West was going to say Rusty was dead. He stopped breathing and gripped the back of the chair for support. Or to have something to throw at West.
"Oh calm down you big sissy. Your little playmate is with Mrs West at the butchers."
Danny's breath came back. If they took him out, he must be ok. The Wests were very careful to keep Rusty inside and hidden when the bruises were too bad. He felt sorry for Rus, though. He hated the butchers. Said the smell brought back bad memories. Still, as Danny went back upstairs to wait for him, he felt almost cheerful.
Rusty would be back soon. They rain looked like it would continue for a while, so they would have another day to themselves. They'd play cards and read Batman and Spider-Man and eat chocolate. Danny would tell Rus about his dad. They could plan what they would do when they were gone from here.
Danny decided to read while waiting for Rusty to return. He'd loaned Rusty a Batman comic book a few days ago that he hadn't finished, so he decided to tackle that before reading any of the stuff he bought yesterday . He didn't see it on Rusty's dresser, however, so he grabbed his little flashlight and looked under the bed.
When his flashlight caught the underpants, he grimaced. There would be hell to pay if Mrs. West found dirty clothes on the floor. He grabbed them to toss in the laundry, but stopped cold. Blood stained the white cotton. Danny's heart stopped. No,no,no,no.
Danny heard the car pull into the driveway. He stood at the narrow attic window and watched Rusty struggling with a large parcel. The butchers paper was already leaking and Rusty's hands were bloody from holding the bundle of raw meat. The rain poured down.
Soon, Danny heard footsteps trudging up the stairs. Rusty came through the door and headed straight for he bathroom. Water started running and he started scrubbing desperately at his hands. Danny went to him, but didn't dare touch him. He watched the brownish red water swirl down the drain. Even after it ran clear, Rusty kept washing. Danny reached over and turned off the faucet. He took Rusty's hands and dried them gently with a ratty old hand towel. It was old and had a big hole, but it was soft. Danny couldn't bear the thought of anything rough touching Rusty right now.
He, very carefully, very very carefully tilted Rusty's chin up and met his eyes. Then, oh so slowly, giving him a chance to break away or tell him to stop, Danny lifted his hand to Rusty's cheek. He brushed his thumb over his cheekbone and then pulled him into a hug.
Back in the bedroom, they huddled together. No words. What was there to say?
It rained all day and all night. Muddy water pooled in the back yard and water seeped into the basement. The rain drummed down on the roof and the gutters overflowed.
Danny was standing at the narrow window, staring out into the gloom when the big black Mercedes pulled into the driveway. He watched 2 men in suits get out and approach the house. Seconds later he saw Cindys little blue hatchback arrive. His heart sped up. He looked over at Rusty, who was just sitting on the bed, listening to the rain.
"Someone's here."
They heard the doorbell ring. Low voices downstairs. West arguing with one of the men. A few minutes later, Cindy and Mrs West were at the bedroom door. Mrs West was wringing her hands in her apron. Cindy glanced around the room, pausing to look at Rusty, who'd retreated into the corner.
Cindy took Danny's hand, "Danny. We've been in touch with your family's lawyer. The court has decided to remove you from this foster home. You need to pack your things and come with me."
Danny stared at her. "And Rusty too."
She looked at him with compassion, but said firmly, no trace of chipper in her voice, "I'm sorry Danny. Just you."
"I don't understand...No! no! I won't leave him here!" He pulled away from Cindy and strode over to Rusty, taking his hand firmly on his. "I won't leave him."
"Let me give you a moment to gather your things and say good-bye."
The women turned and went back down stairs. Danny stood staring hopelessly at Rusty. "It's not supposed to happen this way."
And Rusty looked up at him with his heartbreaking clear blue eyes and smiled. "It'll be ok, Danny. I'll be good."
And in the end, neither Cindy, nor the two strange men, who introduced themselves, but whose names Danny wasn't paying attention to...no one could pry him away from Rusty. So it was the little boy who led him gently by the hand, down the steps, past the stairs to the basement, outside to the car. Danny wanted to grab Rusty and throw him into the backseat and scream at the men to "Drive! Drive away as fast as you can!" But he couldn't say a word.
And so he took Rusty in his arms and held him for the last time. And with his eyes, he said, "I'm sorry and I love you and I don't want to leave you here and I love you."
And Rusty kissed him and said,"I know Danny. Of course I know"
And then one of the men was helping Danny into the car, and the other, who had been talking intently with the Wests, bent close to Rusty, spoke briefly and then shook his hand.
Tears streaming like the rain, Danny's eyes locked on Rusty's. And then they drove away leaving Rusty in the rain all by himself.
1 week later
Danny had been waiting since dawn. He saw the car as soon as it pulled off the road. It slowly, so slowly, drove up the cobblestone driveway, past manicured lawns and a decorative fountain. After about seven zillion centuries, the car stopped right in front of him. The door flew open and a flash of blond hair, skinny arms and legs and brilliant blue eyes hurtled at Danny.
A balding older man followed more slowly, but Danny only had eyes for Rusty. He couldn't believe that his friend was right here, living, breathing, unhurt and right here. Caught between laughing and crying, he was doing some of both. Rusty was gazing up at him, a mile wide grin splitting his face. They were still hanging on to each other when Reuben and Dominick came outside and greeted the man with Rusty.
"Saul!" Reuben welcomed him heartily. "I see you and young Rusty have finally arrived. Thank you for fetching him and coming all this way."
" Its no trouble, no trouble at all. Rusty was a delightful traveling companion, even if he chatters like a squirrel and is impossible to fill up." Saul looked fondly at the boy. "I hope you've laid in enough supplies for an invasion. This one can eat his weight in pasta." His voice was light and cheerful, but the look he gave Reuben and Dominick over the boys heads promised talk of darker things.
The boys had stopped embracing, but refused to be parted. As thy turned to Saul and Reuben, they were smiling and holding hands.
Rusty spoke first, "Thank you Mr. Tishkoff for helping get me out of..." his voice cracked a bit, "for getting me out of that place. Thank you for letting me come here and be with Danny." He stuck out his small hand and Reuben shook it gravely. "I promise I won't be any trouble. I promise I will be good."
And then Reuben did something that sealed Danny's loyalty and love forever. Reuben, still holding Rusty's hand, got down on his knees in his bespoke suit right there on the driveway.
He was eye to eye with Rusty. He said gravely, "Rusty Ryan. You are now and will always and forever be welcome in my home. It is now your home. You are safe here and I hope that one day you will come to love this place, and possibly even one day love Dominick and me. There is nothing, nothing, you can do that will change that. You are not trouble and the only promise I want from you is that you will be yourself. Because you are good enough, for me, for Dominick, for Saul, for Danny, for anybody, just the way you are."
A few hours later, after a lunch that satisfied even Rusty, Dominick was getting him settled in the big suite that he was to share with Danny. "We thought you boys would be happier in each other's company." Rusty was listening to Danny explain what a bidet was for...giggling madly...and trying to decide if he wanted to claim the top bunk, or the water bed.
Saul and Reuben watched indulgently for a few moments. Then they exchanged a meaningful look with Dominick, who announced that it was time to visit the indoor pool, so grab your swim things...and the other two men retired to Reuben's study.
"Why do I think I am gonna want to have a stiff drink before I hear what you have to say?" Reuben poured two large whiskeys.
Saul took it gratefully. "How much did the lawyer tell you?"
"She told me that Ocean called her, frantic, from prison. That he'd had a visit from his son and Danny'd told him about some nasty stuff happening at that home. She could get a court order to pull Danny, but only if he had a place to go. She said that Ocean had asked her to get in touch with me. "
Reuben took a long drink. "Jesus, Saul. You know if I'd've had any idea that Danny was in the system I'd've come for him long time ago. Had no clue. Ocean always did have more pride than sense. " He continued.
"Next day, Dominick and I were on a plane to the east coast. Met the social worker and the lawyer at the courthouse, no fuss. Drove way out to this dumpy house, raining like cats and dogs. Fucking torrential. 'S why I like the desert."
"Anyway, thought I'd just grab the kid and go. Nobody'd said anything about Rusty. So there's Danny, and ain't he the spitting image of his old man?" Saul nodded. "And right beside him is this little squirt of a kid. God Saul, he looked like a baby. And he had had this swollen lip and his arms were black n blue. And there's Danny hangin on to him ... ".
Reuben's voice broke. "Driving away without that kid was the hardest and worst thing I've ever done."
He drank the rest of the scotch. "But I told that bastard that if the kid suffered so much as a hangnail he'd regret it." He grinned nastily. "And I had Frank and some of his guys go check in on him to make sure he got the message."
Saul spoke for the first time, "Good guy that Frank." Reuben nodded. He'd make sure Frank C. got cut in on the next job. He owed him.
"Back to court for an emergency order to get Rusty outta that shithole. Judge promised me he'd point the DA at them and make sure they not only got shut down, but that they'd see jail time...especially him. Jesus...when I think about what he did to those kids..." Reuben took a deep breath. "So, yeah. Rusty woulda been back here days ago, but then that asshole Willie Bank pulled another fast one and we couldn't get back to the coast. Dom suggested calling you and you know the rest." He handed Saul a fat cigar.
"Those kids have been through a lot, Reuben," Saul said, his voice weary. "Rusty needs a doctor, probably a shrink too."
"Stan will be here tomorrow," Reuben told him. "I'll get a couple names from him. Someone good with kids."
"Good. Good." Saul looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't quite know how to say it.
Reuben just shot him a look. They'd known each other a long time.
"He'd been raped, Reuben. Probably more than once." He looked sick. "That night we got him out of the house ... there were no flights to Vegas until next afternoon. So we got a room at the airport Hilton. Until then kid had been fine...or at least acting fine. He was obviously ecstatic to leave that hellhole. Excited about his first airplane ride. Should have seen his face when I told him to grab some chips out of the minibar."
"And when I told him I was taking him to Danny, well you'd think it was Christmas and his birthday and Halloween all in one. He wasn't withdrawn, chattered on about Danny teaching him to play poker, about the sundae he had for dessert, did I have a dog? "
"But, it took a long time for him to fall asleep. I put it down to excitement. But when he finally did drift off, the nightmares started. I woke him up, and the whole story just spilled out of him." Saul frowned. "He doesn't even know what it's called. He doesn't know there's a name for what that sick bastard did to him."
Saul looked at Reuben. "If anybody else had been around to stay with Rusty, I'd have gotten a gun and gone back to that place and shot that sonofabitch in the balls and watched him bleed to death."
He poured himself another drink and said matter-of-factly," But I couldn't leave the boy. So."
"So." Reuben nodded. They were in perfect agreement. The punishment would fit the crime.
Two months later...
The end of the summer saw Danny and Rusty tan and healthy and happy. Of course, naturally, they still had bad moments. Nightmares, when one of them would wake up screaming. But Reuben or Dominick, or Saul, who visited as often as he was able, would be there with kind words and warm cocoa and a soft blanket and never ever any punishments. And if Danny and Rusty slept soundest in each other's arms, well that was ok.
And gradually, there were new memories to crowd out the bad.
And they promised to be there for each other forever, to never hurt anyone, to only go after those who deserved it, and to live each day as if they had nothing to lose. And they did.
The End.
