Up until he came home and found his father pacing nervously around his living room Linus had been having a good day.


He'd spent the last few months working hard, developing his talents. Today, he'd had a method acting class in the morning, that he was confident was really going to help him with his cons. Then, later, he'd had a lesson in advanced safe-cracking from one of his mother's bridge partners which, despite the fact that he'd had to listen to a whole lot of stories about how she'd used to baby-sit him, had gone well. He'd spent the rest of the day, wandering around downtown, checking out the various banks and making a few, very obscure, notes. Not that he was planning anything, at the moment anyway. It just seemed a good idea to get in practice.


All in all though, he'd had quite a long day, and had been looking forward to a nice, quiet evening at home. He'd come in, thrown his coat over the back of a chair, walked into the lounge, saw his dad and leapt about a foot in the air.

"Jeez, couldn't you have knocked or something?" he asked, annoyed.

Bobby turned to look at him. It had been a long time since Linus had seen his dad looking that serious. "You weren't in."

"Couldn't you have, you know, waited till I was in?" he asked.

Bobby ignored him. "I need to tell you something. Do you want to sit down?"

Linus swallowed back his usual annoyance at his Dad, inviting him to sit down in his own apartment, taking over everything. This whole situation felt wrong. He'd been at his parent's for dinner just last night, and nothing had been wrong then. "What's going on, Dad?"

Bobby sighed. "We got in a report from California today. Seems a man was shot and killed after robbing Arnold Whittaker. Some sort of double-cross, they figure. The description was . . . I did some digging, and I'm afraid that it was almost certainly Rusty Ryan."

"What?" Linus was almost certain that he'd misheard.

"Rusty's dead, Linus."


Linus sat down heavily. "Oh, God." As Bobby kept talking, giving him more details and explanations, his mind went back to the last time he'd seen Rusty. He and the details man had worked together a few times, immediately after the Benedict job, when Linus had been desperate to improve his game, and Rusty had seemed at something of a loose end. The last time had been in Philadelphia, a fifteen foot iron sculpture, in a private collection. Linus had learnt more ways to scam his way into a hotel than he would ever need to use. And even more ways to avoid paying the room-service bill afterwards.


He'd also learnt the best ways to insinuate himself into other people's conversations, how to walk into any room and act like he belonged there. He'd learnt how to really read plans and how to translate that knowledge so he could walk into the building and know where all the weak points were and, even more importantly, where all the exits were. If working alongside Danny had taught him to have vision, working with Rusty had taught him how to plan properly and think things through.

And now Rusty was dead, and that was somehow too large a concept for him to get his head round right now. He wiped his eyes and tuned back in to what his dad was saying.

"…I know he's retired, but I don't know exactly where. But you do, right?"

"What?" Linus asked, stupidly, feeling he had obviously missed something.

"Danny." Bobby replied, patiently. "Someone needs to tell him."

"What?! I can't." Linus blurted out.

"He needs to be told."


Yeah. Whatever the circumstances, he hated it when his dad was right. Rusty and Danny were . . . had been . . . Danny had to be told at any rate, and now it was Linus' responsibility.

"Alright."


He'd have to tell everyone else too. It had been such a good day. Now he needed a drink.




The real problem was that Linus had no experience in breaking genuine bad news. He certainly hadn't been able to handle the thought of facing Danny on his own, which was why he'd made a few phone calls. Eight phone calls.


"You said it was urgent?" Frank questioned. They'd taken over a conference suite at Newark International. Somewhere, wandering around the airport, there was a confused group of marketing executives.

Linus cleared his throat, uncomfortably. He'd already had to wave off questions about his reddened eyes. It was just from flying. "Yeah, see it's – "

"Guys, shouldn't we wait for Danny and Rusty." Livingstone interrupted.

"I didn't call Danny." Linus said quietly.

"You didn't call Danny?" Reuben.

"Why wouldn't you call Danny?" Virgil demanded.

Unsurprisingly, Turk immediately turned to his brother. "Well, maybe it's something we can't tell Danny about."

"Oh yeah? Like what, smartass."

" . . . A surprise party?"

"You're such an asshole."


The Malloys continued arguing, Livingstone and Frank somehow getting involved. Reuben continued to demand to know why Danny wasn't there, while Yen looked from one person to the other, seeming faintly bemused.

"What about Rusty?" Basher was sitting next to him, so he was easy to hear over the argument.

"Rusty's dead."

The room went silent. Everyone turned to stare at him.

"What?" He couldn't see who had spoken. Not that it particularly mattered.

"Rusty's dead." he repeated, blinking hard, and looking down at the table.


When he looked up again, Reuben was still staring at him, incredulously. Livingstone was looking down at the floor. Linus could hear him sniffling. Yen was perched on the edge of his seat, looking round, as though waiting for someone to speak. Turk had his arm slung, awkwardly over his brother's shoulder. Frank was leaning back in his chair, staring at his hands. Saul had his hands over his eyes. Linus thought that maybe he was crying.

Basher was leaning towards him, eyes bright. "Are you sure?"

Linus nodded. "My dad got it from the Feds. Something about hitting Arnold Whittaker's place, and a double cross. They found his car. They're definite."

Basher leaned back "Rusty's dead." he said, sounding to Linus as though he was trying to understand.

Livingstone raised his head. "Who did it?" Linus had never heard that particular tone before and to be perfectly honest, it scared the crap out of him.

"I don't know." he said, honestly.

"We need to find out." Livingstone said calmly.

"You didn't call Danny." Saul broke in, his voice steady.

"I just didn't know what to say." he explained.

Frank snorted. "No way to say that."

Yen said something, angrily and kicked the table. No-one answered. Linus wasn't totally sure if anyone in the room had actually understood. Except they all did.


I'd absolutely love it, if you could just take the time to review. Thanks.