A House, an ocean's 11 fanfic

"I don't need you."

The wind slammed the rickety front door shut with a loud bang but only after allowing itself in first. The cold air ravaged the room and made all the bedroom doors squeal closed in protest upstairs as it traveled. The house itself seemed to shake but it was really more of a shack then a house if you're going to tell the truth and you are going to because you shouldn't lie when the wind is around. It has a tendency to carry words and spread them throughout the sky to fall on all the ears of the people below. Maybe that's how this story began but it's hard to say. You can't really remember much of yesterday to be sure.

"I know kid, I know."

The fact that the white paint began to peel off the walls long before you even knew this place existed doesn't stop it from bothering you. Maybe you could have saved the shack. Made it into a house. It really wasn't a bad place, it just needed some love. You know that you're not exactly the best person at giving that and the current situation you're in is proof. You still can't help but think that if you could know what lie it is that you told yesterday, you would be living comfortably in the shack turned immaculate example of love and maybe he would be living there with you.

So he turns to leave and you're not exactly sure what to say. Do you tell him that you think he's lying or rather that you know he isn't but would rather pretend until the day you die that it isn't true? You're pretty good at pretending. You don't like to call it lying because it makes you uncomfortable but then again it's only a label. You'd be willing to deal with being uncomfortable for eternity if he would just take it back.

Take it back.

But he's gone. Just like that. You were a bit too slow. You've been known to have the best nerves in the business but maybe if you didn't he'd have been able to see you aren't okay with the situation. You aren't okay with him just leaving you in the horrible little shack that won't ever amount to anything because he's gone and you're not. You never thought you'd be reduced to nothing by anyone. Tomorrow you'll wake up and pull off one of the biggest jobs ever done without a hitch. But you're still nothing more then your shack.

So you sit there awhile in the dusty old chairs that must have once been something special. It takes you a long time before you feel like getting up to put all the pieces back together. But of course you don't put them back because you prefer them strewn all over house and even some parts had fallen into the floor board where you know they'll be forever. The place is a part of you now. You don't get a choice in the matter just like you can't think of how to fix things the next time you see him which may or may not be ever.

You decide to knock it down the next morning when you have your share of the money beneath your finger tips but he's still somewhere out there and being a thief isn't really that great when you can't steal the things that really matter. Of course when you stand in front of the pathetic excuse for what you thought could be once again a home with the wrecking ball behind you and waiting for the command you can't do it. You slip each member of the demolition crew an extra hundred bucks and tell them to beat it. For once in your life, you've decided to get something the hard way, no sticky fingers attached.

When you heard everyone say hard works pays on it the end, you never believed it in the way everyone else did. Your hard work was the work it took to pull off a job. Everything else didn't really matter because it didn't bring the same kind of joy. You're scrubbing floors and removing layers of paint by hand and you're not happy. You're sweating and irritated because some of the doorknobs won't come off the doors and you're pretty sure the paint you picked out for the bathroom isn't going to dry and look like the pallet after all. You don't really think about what you'll do when you're done. It doesn't seem like you'll ever finish and maybe it's okay if you don't and just stop breathing years from now in the middle of putting in the new hardwood floors.

No one really worries about you because you still pull off jobs with the same level of craftsmanship you always have and they'd been urging you to get a hobby for years. He doesn't know what you're doing because he stops everyone from updating him on how you're doing when it comes up in polite conversation. You don't work the same jobs anymore. He's made sure of it and even on the times when you're called in as the expert, it's on the down low and no one tells him you've been around. You're sure he knows because he can see through a lie when it's thrown right at him, you made sure of that. At the time you thought it was the right thing to do but you never counted on the wind misplacing a lie for him to see through. You still can't remember what it is you said.

You saw him once, out of the business and without meaning to at all. You looked up and suddenly he was just there, looking out at the water below the bridge. You could have sworn he was going to fall in the way he was leaning over, trying to get a better look at something that had caught his attention. It took a lot to look away and not race over and pull him back to a safer position. After all, he doesn't need you. You walked away and went back to your house which is really starting to take shape and began to work harder then you ever had before.

"He said he saw you the other day."

You just grunt a little in response, lifting the heavy stack of roof tiles on to your self made pulley system. The sun is beating down on you without mercy and its times like these you wonder how your best friend can possibly sport a suit. But then against he isn't helping you with any of the work, just standing in the shade like he normally does because this is your thing just like his wife was his. You didn't really help when he tried to get her back because that's not the way it worked. In a weird twisted way, the house is your way of getting him back and so you're not going to get any help either. It's all in the rule book you two never had enough time or motivation to write out for everyone else to understand. Why would anyone else have to understand anyways?

"I think he misses you."

You don't respond to that because there's really nothing to say that the other doesn't already know. You just begin pulling the tiles onto the roof and think about the probability of finishing all the work you have to do before it gets dark. You've worked in the dead of night plenty of times but Danny doesn't stick around when the sun goes down because he claims the house turns into a monster by moonlight and ate his shoe a few weeks back. (You found the thing in the mud by his car the next day but never said a word about it. You keep it above the newly acquired fireplace like a trophy.)You don't really like working alone at night but it looks like it's going to rain and you have yet to buy enough buckets to cover all the leaks.

It's exactly three weeks later when the roof is finished and you find yourself taking a nap up there because the air is nice and warm and your ladder fell down a few hours ago and you've yet to decide how to get down. It may be a shack but you're pretty sure in the past it wasn't just a house but a mansion. Three levels above ground didn't seem that high or spectacular for a home before you were trapped up there. You were never fond of jumping.

You wake up to a slightly cooler breeze that indicates that it's been a few hours and it's starting to get chilly. When you sit up and see him sitting near the edge, back to you, and you show no surprise at all. You've got the best nerves but it's not like he was looking your way to see it anyways. He's too close to the ledge and suddenly you're not too happy with your roofing job and fear he's going to fall right off or through. No harm comes to him but you still wish he'd get farther away from the rim. You knew for a fact that he had a long standing tendency to put himself in dangerous situations without thinking. He particularly liked climbing on protective railing that was obviously there for a reason. You know you never showed it before but it would always drive you crazy. He may not have needed you but you damn well needed him and couldn't stand to see him so naively close to peril.

"What are you doing here?"

Of course you have to ask because he made it pretty clear he never wanted to see you again. He didn't need you and it was as simple as that. You can't help but wonder what he wants from here or you. You can't help but also know that it can't be any good news. Maybe it is good that you have nerves of steel.

"Danny said you're building me a house."

He's looking and speaking at you completely seriously but it's hard to look him straight in the face and see anything but the kid he was and always will be to you. He's one of those people who will never look old and you've always figured it was a trade off because you were the type of person who would never get fat. He's nervously chewing some bubble gum and you just want to reach over and feel him to make sure it's all real.

"Would you like me to build you a house?"

You keep your hands to yourself. You're still not sure why he's here or why he didn't bother to wake you up if it was important enough that he actually set foot on the same soil let alone a probably poorly repaired roof. There are some things that are just too good to be true and while you used to think you attracted everything good in the world, recent events have left you thinking otherwise. You'll still always be a bit cocky when it comes to life in general but a hell of a lot more careful. Then again all you have to be careful about is the very house you're standing on and technically/ legally it was never even yours. It's always been his name on the deed and his place in your mind.

"No, I wouldn't."

You nod your head and go over to the ladder which he must have found in its fallen position and put back up, ready to leave everything behind that you've worked so hard for, for him. He doesn't need you and this is only the millionth time since he's said it that you've found him proving it to you. The only difference is that now he's actually here. You have the chance to fix things. You could still fight and tell him that you're not taking no for an answer like you've always done in the past when someone makes an offer you really didn't like. But he wasn't making an offer. He was just telling him where he stood.

"I didn't think so."

You don't quite make it to the ladder because his hand grabs on to your shirt and he's looking up at you with eyes that are hidden by a childish baseball cap. He's not done and you're not exactly sure what more there is to say. Of course he doesn't know the rules so you shouldn't expect him to live by them. It would be a lot easier if one of you had written them down, then you wouldn't have to deal with the whole messy heart you heart. You tried and lost. Now you're making your honorable exit but he just won't let you go.

"Do you remember what you said? To me? Before…?"

You're a bit surprised at the question. The truth is no, you haven't remembered and probably never will. You were drunk and there are only fragments of moments you do have intact. None of them make much sense with the large gaps missing so you couldn't figure it out. No matter how hard you've tried. You shake your head and he lets go of you. He goes down the ladder and you're sure that this is it. That was your final chance and you blew it. He'll never come back and that was him letting you go.

You don't wait very long before you go down too. It's gotten colder and your jacket is no where to be seen. You go searching for it and only when you go inside do you see where it has gone. He's standing on the second floor, against the railing, surveying all your hard work, wearing your jacket. You never thought the shack looked much like anything, no improvement, until you saw him standing there inside and suddenly you couldn't think of a single thing that needed to be done.

While you still don't know what it is that you've done, it feels good to finally be forgiven. He's taken you back and whatever thing you must have said to him to make him leave for so long doesn't really matter anymore. He smiles at you like the embodiment of hope or happiness or whatever it is you're finally feeling and points to a pile of your newly bought tools.

"I think I'd much rather build a house with you."