Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Ocean's 11

A/N 1: Thanks to InSilva for prereading and the title

A/N2: Regular readers may be asking 'Why would she start writing a new story when she still has several to finish'. Well, you could be right. But in my defence, this is both creepy and unpleasant. Wait...I mean I already have most of the next two chapters finished

A/N3: Also, this is slash. And there is coerced sex herein.

The window was open, but even now it was dark, the air blowing in was hot and dusty. As far as Rusty was concerned it was past time to leave this country behind and go home.

"We're going to need to block off that second exit," he said suddenly.

Danny paused and then carefully stopped what he was doing and looked up at him, eyebrow raised. "Really?" he asked. "What, am I boring you or something?"

"Sorry," Rusty said unrepentantly. "Sometimes stuff just pops into my head. I can't help it."

"Uh huh." Danny's eyes narrowed. His hands were warm around Rusty's hips. (Danny was always warm.) "Let's see if we can't get your mind where it's supposed to be." He leaned forwards again and blew gently and the soft sensation swept tantalizingly across Rusty's groin. His hips bucked forwards helplessly.

"We're still gonna have to..." he gasped, then he broke off into a low, needy moan as Danny descended on him, his mouth busy in indescribable ways.

"Leave tomorrow, till tomorrow," Danny said a moment later, and Rusty nodded dizzily, happy to agree with anything right now. "I want you right here and now."

It would be easier if it had been something to do with the second exit, Rusty thought bitterly. Then, at least, there would be something he could blame. Something he could point at and say 'That was what we did wrong'. But the truth was, he didn't know what had happened. Just that the result had been catastrophic.

Danny was a deadweight on his shoulder. He cursed his choice of words, his hand squeezing round Danny's leg convulsively. Not dead, not nearly dead. Not going to die. He'd managed to slow the bleeding at least, but there was too much of Danny's blood covering both of them. It was all he could smell, and with each breath he felt like screaming. The bullet had hit Danny in the back. Rusty shouldn't have moved him at all, he knew, but if they were caught now there would be a whole hail of bullets coming their way without the benefit of a trial.

He stopped to catch his breath somewhere in the warren of dark alleyways. He didn't dare put Danny down. He didn't want to risk moving him anymore than he had to. But eyes stinging, he reached up and pressed his hand to Danny's cheek. It was cold in the muggy night's air. He could hear Danny breathing, harsh, laboured, unsteady... Rusty sank his teeth deep into his lip. "I was thinking," he said unsteadily. "When we get home. Maybe I should move into your room with you. That would be nice, right? And we could figure out what to do with my room...the other room. What do you think, hot tub? Wet bar?" He paused a second, then nodded. "Right. Both. That's a great idea."

A siren sounded somewhere too close, and made him jump. He had to get them off the streets. He had to get Danny help.

Knowing where to find a discreet doctor was always part of Rusty's basic reconnaissance of any new city that they operated in. Franco had given him a name and address. Dr Hans - no last name. It wasn't far, at least.

Of course, so far Franco's information had been careless at best, he thought grimly, as he gripped Danny a little tighter and headed off down the darkest alley. If he got there and found the address was actually a delicatessen...

Franco was dead now. He felt guilty.

He wished Danny would wake up. He wished Danny would give some sign he was alive.

The address led him to a two storey house on a residential street, walled off and apart from its neighbours. The garden was overgrown with tangled weeds and gnarled trees, and the front door was flanked by two weatherworn stone lions. There was a single dim light in one of the upstairs windows.

"Looks like a great setting for a horror movie," he murmured.

Danny didn't respond. Not even in Rusty's head.

With a nod, he staggered up the path towards the front door. His back ached almost as much as his heart. "Not like we have much choice."

There were people looking for them. Soldiers, cops, criminals...the only difference in who caught them would be how quickly they died.

There was an old-fashioned brass door knocker. With a quick, awkward glance over his shoulder, he rapped it three times. The echoes went on for a long time, and he was back looking over his shoulder again.

He heard footsteps coming towards the door and then a long silence. Come on, come on, come on. He got the sense that someone was looking at him through the peephole. "Please," he called out, soft and urgent. "I need help. My friend is hurt. Please."

The silence considered him and finally the door swung open and he was looking into a lit hallway, a tall, round man silhouetted in the doorway. "Come in, come in," he said in perfect English, a noticeable trace of a German accent shaded with just a little local colour. "Quickly, please."

"Dr Hans?" Rusty asked quickly, stumbling inside.

"Yes, yes," Hans agreed, putting his hand on Rusty's back and ushering him inside. "My surgery is set up in the basement. We must get your friend seen to quickly. Did anyone see you come in here?"

"No," he said definitely. "No, we weren't followed. No one knows we're here."

"Good," Hans breathed in relief. "That's good."

"I have money," Rusty added, patting the package in his coat. "As much as you want."

"We will get to that later," Hans said dismissively. "This way, please." Somehow, and Rusty didn't quite see how, he opened a hidden panel in the wall, revealing a steep flight of stairs down to the basement. "Do you need a hand with him?"

Instinctively, Rusty clutched Danny tighter. "No," he said at once. "No, I've got him."

Hans nodded, watching them carefully. "As you like. Please, follow me."

He followed slowly, terrified of falling, terrified of dropping Danny. There was a small but clean and well-equipped surgery at the bottom. A couple of beds surrounded by curtains, an operating table, a trolley covered in sharp instruments, a sink, a locked drug cabinet, what looked like a portable x-ray machine...Rusty breathed a sigh of relief. This looked promising. Fuck, let Danny be okay. He'd do anything...

"Please put him on the table," Hans said. "Where is the injury?"

"His back," Rusty said tightly. "A bullet wound."

"I see, I see," Hans nodded. "And was there an exit wound?"

"No." He'd checked. And now he was imagining that bullet still tearing through Danny, working it's way deeper into his spine.

"Thank you. Please place him face down and I will take a look."

Rusty did as he was told. Danny lay pale and cold and still, his breathing terrifyingly shallow. "It's going to be okay," Rusty murmured, gripping Danny's hand for a long moment, uncaring of the audience. "You're going to be fine. You don't get to leave me like this, remember?"

Hans cleared his throat, and Rusty nodded apologetically and stood back, watching in breathless, terrified anticipation as Hans checked Danny's pulse, blood pressure and pupil reaction, connecting him up to a couple of machines and making small unhappy sounding noises, before quickly wheeling a ventilator over and grabbing an intubation set. Rusty bit savagely into his lip as he watched the tube forced down Danny's throat. He couldn't stop the soft noise of agony. This was like a nightmare. And he hadn't even seen the bullet wound yet...

At last Hans took a pair of scissors and delicately cut the shirt and the mess of improvised bandages off Danny's back. "Mmmm," Hans murmured to himself. "I see, I see." He carefully cut off Danny's pants and boxers as well, easing them off while moving Danny as little as possible, before gently covering Danny's lower half with a sheet. "In cases of spinal injuries, it is important to reduce any swelling around the spinal cord as soon as possible. I'm going to give him a large injection of steroids." He looked up at Rusty, blinking. "There is a torch on the bench behind you. Please bring it over here."

He turned and spotted the flashlight and grabbed it over. "Here," he said, holding it out, but Hans didn't take it.

"Thank you. Please, just shine it on your lover's back so I can see better."

Again, he did as he was told, but he glanced up at Hans quickly, wondering.

Hans caught him looking. "Oh, I hope you are not offended," he said apologetically. "Please, believe me, I don't mind. I like to think that I am very openminded."

Rusty just shrugged. Right now, it hardly seemed to matter, if it ever did. He moved the flashlight as he was directed, and watched Hans give the injection directly into Danny's back and continue the examination.

"Yes," Hans said at last, standing up straight and slowly peeling off his bloody gloves. "I believe there is hope for your friend. I may well be able to save his life...though only time will tell if he will walk again. I have a good idea of the angle of impact, but in order to operate successfully, I shall first of all have to perform an x-ray."

"Right," Rusty nodded intently. "Let's get on with it then. What do you need me to do?"

Hans smiled widely. "Please take out your penis and show it to me."

Time stopped. For a moment, Rusty just stared, certain he must have somehow misheard. "What?"

"I should like to see your penis," Hans said calmly. "And you are going to show it to me. Unless you want to carry your lover out of here and try and find some other doctor? I can assure you, you would be signing his death warrant."

He would be. Danny needed treatment now. This was his only chance. And Rusty had seen enough to be certain that Hans was a good doctor.

Danny wouldn't want this. Danny would be furious at him for even thinking about this. "You just want to look?" he clarified.

"Oh, yes," Hans nodded. "I am afraid that is all we have time for. But please. Go ahead."

This was nothing that mattered. This wasn't important in the least. Face blank, he unzipped his pants, reached inside and drew his dick out and stood there, dangling ridiculously.

Hans made an approving clucking sound, and leaned in close for a long, thoughtful inspection as Rusty gritted his teeth. He didn't try to touch in any way. Somehow, that almost made it worse. Rusty had been treated like meat before. This was like being reduced to furniture. "Very nice," Hans said, after an eternity. "Very nice indeed. Thank you."

He stood up, beaming happily. "And now," he said, "I will save your lover's life."

Thanks for reading, hope you liked it. :) Please take a moment to review. I swear the wait for the next chapter won't be long.