A/N Totally inspired by the scene on 7/25/11 where John takes the newly returned Todd back to his apartment for his protection. I felt some major chemistry in those scenes! I'm a Todd fan from way back so I wanted to see more of his complex, broken character again. Plus there is not enough OLTL Slash out there! (Like, none). When the work is complete it will be my version of the who "killed" Victor Jr. mystery (spoiler! It's NOT Todd). Todd/John centric but look for Victor, Thomas, Tea, Blair, Jack, Starr, Brody, Natalie and anyone else that factors in to the "Who Killed Victor Lord Jr?" storyline as chapters progress. Rated M for forthcoming chapters.

Chapter 1

You're Not My Type

Todd Manning sat on John McBain's red couch, quietly observing his host. At least he thought he was Todd Manning. He had to be, because it kept rolling around his head in a loop- I am Todd Manning. I am Todd Manning. I have a daughter, her name is Starr... That would be the type of thing that might happen to a victim of brainwashing, he supposed. But supposing didn't matter. What mattered was what he felt in his gut, and his gut said he was Todd Manning, for better or for worse.

John was appraising him as well, he could tell. In that deep, whisper of a voice he was telling Todd he'd have to stay here, lay low. John was average height, slim build, long hair, all cop. Alpha male for sure. Most cops were, the good ones anyway. This was the first time Todd could think of that a cop actually wanted to help him. Assuming he could trust him. Assuming he could trust anyone.

Todd felt tension rising in his chest. What was he doing, trusting this guy on the word of some homeless man who he barely knew? Getting nervous, he started babbling. He said a bunch of stupid stuff about not going home with men until the third date. The stab at humor was mostly for his own benefit, to lighten his mood, because he was getting nervous and suspicious. John replied simply that Todd wasn't his type. Wasn't his type?

"Huh," Todd quipped. "More into the bears, maybe? Or the leather scene, more likely. You being a cop and all. It's okay. I know I'm not for everyone."

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"Of course I know that. I've heard that my entire life." His response was light, but there was a darkness in his eyes that undermined it. If John noticed, he didn't show it.

"I need you to take this seriously. Someone is trying to kill you, or hadn't you noticed?"

"Hey I'm the one with the bruise on my hip from when you shoved me into a pile of boxes back there on the docks! Not to mention the shame I still feel from you feeling me up back there." Todd hugged himself for emphasis. He guessed he was still a little pissed about John slamming him up against the wall and patting him down like a common criminal. He might have been a criminal, but definitely not common. Plus he never liked being touched.

"Excuse me, I was trying to save your life."

"You didn't have to manhandle me to do it."

"You know, you're almost as bad as the other one."

"The other one what?"

"The other Todd Manning. The only Todd Manning I know."

"That guy is an imposter, John! You don't know any other Todd Manning! Just this guy that's in on the conspiracy to take over my life!"

"Yeah, well I've saved his life a time or two, and he's been about as grateful."

"You want a reward?"

"No. I want you to stop flirting and start talking."

"I was flirting. But then you rejected me, and I got a little defensive, maybe, so..." Todd trailed off, because John was now seating himself on the coffee table directly in front of Todd so he could look him straight in the eyes.

"I want to help you," John said plainly. "You have to help me help you, and to do that you're going to have to try and trust me. It's obvious that it's hard for you. But you have my word, I will protect you. As long as you're straight with me."

Todd looked away from the piercing blue stare. Something about John unnerved him. Not because he thought he couldn't trust him, but because he thought he could. He had trusted very few people in his life, and they'd all betrayed him in the end. Rebecca—falling for Powell. Sam and Blair—winding up in bed together. A part of him wanted desperately to walk out of this apartment and handle everything on his own. But those piercing eyes, they drew him back. Honest eyes. He needed the help. Hell, he had asked for the meeting. And John had just saved his life. That had to count for something. He told the man his story. The parts he could say aloud, anyway.

John listened, and he didn't push. He asked a few questions; about the place where they'd held him, about how Todd- if he was actually Todd- had gotten free. He didn't push on the details of the torture. When Todd started to talk about it, his eyes grew dark, his voice tight. John reached out to put a hand on Todd's knee, but the other man recoiled from it. John sat back and gave him some space. Regardless of the whole story, this guy believed what he was saying, and it was obvious he's been through hell.

Todd told John how he'd met with "the imposter", and how he was certain the other Todd Manning was involved with Baker and his goons. Interesting, when John had questioned "Manning," he hadn't said a word about meeting a man with his old face.

"Okay," said John, looking thoughtful. "I've got some ideas but I've got to sort them out. In the meantime, you have to get some rest." He could tell the man was exhausted. A little wired, but the adrenaline from the shoot-out at the docks was wearing off.

"You trying to get me into bed again?" he asked wryly. John cracked a half smile.

"Not my type, remember? Crash on the couch if you like."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Todd demanded. "What is your type?"

"Used to be you're alleged niece."

"Jessica? No, she's way too good for a guy like you."

"Thanks for that. Actually it was Natalie."

"The red-head? She's still a Buchanan? Huh. Somehow I saw that going the other way. Guess you never can tell. She seems about your speed."

"Too fast for me, as it turns out," John said bitterly. He hadn't meant to bring up Natalie. He was still sore about the whole Brody thing. One of his best officers, fathering a kid with his girlfriend. And Natalie lying to him all those months! It was better not to think about it. Throwing himself into his work was what John did best.

"What did she do?" Todd asked.

"Her sister's fiancé. And god knows who else."

"Those gingers are spicy, John. You've got to be careful with them."

"So I've learned."

"Swearing off women? I'd recommend it. Look at my ex-wives. One of them is married to Fraudd Manning like an idiot, the other one is shacking up with the idiot's brother. Of course Blair will shack up with about any man who likes blonde hair."

"Careful, that's my ex-wife you're talking about."

"Your what?"

"Yes, Blair and I were married. It was a peaceful split." John saw real anger brewing in the other man's eyes. According to his rep, Todd Manning was very possessive, and jealous. John didn't really care though. Better to be up front about it.

"I really have missed a lot," Todd said darkly.

"Eight years is a long time. But hey, don't try to figure it all out at once. What we need to do now is prove who you really are."

"Prove... does that mean you believe me?" The anger about John and Blair left him, and he looked anxious, almost desperate for an ally. The Todd John had known for the last eight years lived up to his reputation as a cold, mean, sociopath. He was charismatic, for sure, but he'd never seen a side like this... a vulnerability that wasn't part of his reputation. Beneath the wise cracks that screamed defense mechanism, he was angry, he was desperate, he was broken... and yet there was still this flicker of hope when he looked at John for an answer. Did John believe him? Reason said he didn't have enough evidence yet. His gut on the other hand...

"Maybe," John said, wanting to give Todd more but finding himself unable to commit just yet. "I honestly don't know who else you'd be," he admitted.

"Exactly, John! Who else would I be? With this face? And this scar?" He stood up wildly, pointing emphatically at the cursed mark across his right cheek. "Why would anyone even want my life? Why would anyone choose this?!" Todd was shouting now, working himself up to a rage. John had never known Todd Manning to be this emotional. With the other one, the angrier he got the quieter he got. Frankly, John found the silent rage scarier. Animal lash-outs he could deal with. "Really, I should let him have it!" Todd continued. "If Fraudd want to be me so bad! Reviled Prince of Llandview! But those are my kids John! He cannot have my kids!"

"All right, cool down a minute," John said calmly. He reached out again and put both hands on Todd's shoulders, holding him still. Todd's muscles were tense beneath his thin t-shirt. His chest heaved with emotion. But he didn't pull away this time, so they were making progress. John moved up close to him, still holding Todd by the shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. Todd's were guarded, angry. But he still didn't pull away.

"If we're gonna manage to prove it, you've gotta let me think," John said gently, watching Todd's eyes soften slightly, but still with their guard up. "I'm on your side."

John guided Todd back to the couch, giving his shoulders a final, reassuring squeeze before letting him go. Todd sat for a minute, and then flopped over on his side dramatically, pulling his feet up onto the couch and glowering. Not at John in particular. Probably at the whole world.

"Do you want the pain to stop?"

It was the woman's voice again, and he could smell her perfume; cloying, powdery, something from Elizabeth Taylor. The pain she referred to came from the needle; the large, metal point rammed into his sore skin. But it was actually what flowed from it that caused the real pain. Like hot lava rolling through his veins. The pain was so intense it was hard for him to speak, but he managed to get his first thought out:

"You mean the needle? Or the stench of your over-applied cologne?"

She slapped him hard across the face. She had a temper, as he knew. The slap actually drew his mind away from the pain in his veins for a moment, so it was welcome. She wanted him to break, and he had yet to oblige. She wanted information, but he had none of it to give her.

"I can make it worse, you ingrate," she hissed at him. And he knew that she could. He heard the device in her hand, the one that pinched and pulled...

"Please, no," he begged, his cockiness abandoning him.

"Then tell me what I want to know you ungrateful bastard!"

"I don't know anything!"

The whirring of the machine began, and the sound of it was almost worse than what it promised. Almost...

Todd awoke with a start, unaware of where he was. Then he heard the low, husky voice behind him ask, "Bad dreams?" John McBain. He was at the detective's apartment, and he'd fallen asleep on his couch.

"Yeah," Todd admitted. "But I'm used to them. If I don't have bad dreams, I'm suffering from insomnia."

"That's unfortunate," John said, coming around the couch and sitting down next to Todd. "Open your mouth," he said, leaning towards Todd with some sort of white stick in his hand. Todd immediately jerked back into the corner of the couch, putting up a protective arm.

"Whoa," John said, holding his hands up in a nonthreatening gesture. "It's just a q-tip, see?" he extended the white implement he was holding. "For a DNA sample."

"I just got free from eight years of torture, asshole," Todd spat at him. "You need to warn a brother."

John pressed his face into a kind of grimace, looked down, then back up at Todd.

"Sorry about that," he said sincerely. "I wasn't thinking."

"I'll say," Todd said, glowering for another moment, but then seeming to let it go. "What do you need that for, anyway?"

"For proving that you are the real Todd Manning. I'll manage to get Fraudd's DNA somehow." Todd broke into a sudden grin that reached all the way up to his eyes, which glinted playfully at John. "What?" John asked.

"You called him Fraudd," Todd said happily. He leaned in close to John. "You believe me," he said conspiratorially. He opened his mouth willingly. John took the sample, suddenly very aware of their nearness to one another. His heart began to beat inexplicably faster. He heard Todd's breath shorten, grow shallow. It was suddenly very warm in the room. He put the sample into its plastic bag, trying to shake off the unexpected charge in the air.

"Is that all you need?" Todd asked abruptly. There was a shift in his demeanor as well. They had both felt it, and were both a little afraid of it.

"No, that should do it," John replied gruffly. The both stood up, almost knocking into one another but narrowly avoiding it. "I'm going to go scrounge up a sample of the other's DNA," John continued.

"How are you planning to get that?" Todd asked, too quickly. Almost a hint of jealousy. But that was ridiculous.

"I'm a detective, I can be sneaky when I need to be," said John, heading for the door. He stopped. Now at a safer distance, his voice softened. "Don't go anywhere while I'm gone, and I mean it."

"Sure pop," Todd said snarkily.

"I don't want anything to happen to you," John said, surprised by how true that felt.

"Just get my proof, John. I'm not going anywhere," Todd replied, surprised at how trusting he felt. He didn't want to go anywhere else. Not yet anyway.

John moved to open the door. Hesitated. Turned back towards Todd as if there was something unfinished, but then he held himself back from whatever it was.

"I'll be back soon," he said simply.

"You be careful," Todd called after him. "And stay out of Fraudd's clutches! He's wanton, that one!"

"Will do," John called back as he left the apartment with a huge grin on his face that he didn't want Todd to see. Whatever that meant.