The morning came. It took forever, but it finally came. Vlad looked out the window, dark shadows under his tired eyes. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it, about what had happened. Yes, he felt bad. But hadn't the boy consented? Hadn't he asked for it? Yes, but no. It had been a fit of desperation, one that could have easily been corrected with comfort, not that. His little badger had seemed so cute with tears staining his cheeks, voice ragged from the crying, the need for relief plastered on his face. Very, very cute. Even though it had resulted in being dirtied. Even though it had caused the boy to be more lost and broken. His hands were bandaged tightly, needing to heal from the scrubbing. Vlad would let Daniel sleep a little longer, he needed it.
Vlad rose from his chair, wanting to change into something immediately. He had showered after getting back to his room, but he still felt unclean. It was his hands, even though he had scrubbed until he bleed, he was still unclean. The thought nagged at him as he threw a sweater over his head. He had quite a few sweaters, due to his love for knitting. The act didn't require much from his hands, so it didn't hurt as bad as other hobbies. He had picked up knitting from his father before he died, and had enjoyed it much more compared to playing piano. Maybe if his dear mother had let him do that instead, he wouldn't have the problems he had today. He wouldn't be left with these festering and useless hands.
With his hair in a bun, Vlad left to go tell a maid to bring breakfast to Daniel. He would leave him alone for the better part of the morning. He had business, business he hated and wanted nothing to do with, but business nonetheless. His thoughts were on other things as he spoke to the shy girl, thinking of work and piano and Daniel. Poor thing, poor Daniel. Those hands had gripped his shoulder, twisted the material beneath. Fingers digging in and leaving bruises. These are the thoughts that plagued him as he talked, the ones that followed him to his study. He had to make phone calls, important ones. Some about Daniel, others about his work. He wasn't excited to leave his little badger alone for a whole morning, maybe even longer. He glanced at the book before him and sighed loudly. He really didn't want to make these calls.
It took Danny awhile to fully open his eyes, the light shining intensely on his face. Why didn't Vlad close them? Oh. He remembered the night before, a faint blush settling on his pale cheeks. Why did he... he grew sick. He couldn't believe he had let it happen, especially from that motherfucking fruit loop... He grabbed the trashcan beside the bed, his meal from yesterday coming back up. He gasped for air raggedly, holding the receptacle close. Another gag, then another. He had let him touch him, he had asked for- nope. No he hadn't. That wasn't what he wanted, so he wasn't responsible. He caught his breath after some time, unable to get any more back up. He had been touched, that man had touched him. He needed another shower, he needed different sheets and different pillows.
By the time he had made it to the bath, he was feeling a little better. His stomach didn't hurt as bad when it was empty, and thinking of exploring helped deter his thoughts. He could pretend like nothing had happened, no, he would pretend. As long as Vlad stayed silent, so would he. That was his decision, and it eased him somewhat. He didn't remember why he had woken up in the middle of the night anyways. He couldn't remember his dreams. His brow furrowed at the sight of the tub, had he filled it? Or had it been filled when he walked in? He stuck his hand in, surprised by the warmth. Vlad wasn't the one who started the water, he knew for a fact that Vlad hadn't. Who did? Danny peeked out, looking for signs of a maid or anyone. No one. No one had been in this part of the hallway since yesterday.
Danny was clearly disturbed, wondering when he had done it. Maybe it wasn't best to think about it. What if he had wanted a shower? A cold one to clear his thoughts? Why had he decided on a warm bath where all he would want to do is sit there and think? His subconscious was totally messing with him. "Look brain, I don't want to think about it... Why don't you get that? You think you would since, you know, you're me..." Danny grumbled to himself as he stripped of the night shirt. Maybe he was going crazy, he didn't doubt it. He had lived in solitary for awhile now, and he, well at least he thought, that he had conked his head pretty hard at some point. But when had it happened?
He took the morning to relax, his breakfast brought to him by a small and concerned maid. He tried to explain to her that he was fine, just a little tired, but she would have none of it. She sat down with him as he ate, beginning to ask pointless questions about him and how he was. Shouldn't she be getting back to work? It was her job, and here she was trying to relax with him, get to know him. It was kind, and he appreciated it, he just didn't want it. Wait, couldn't she tell that he wasn't fine? Couldn't she see that he was shaking as he lifted the toast to his lips, struggling to eat it? Vlad would have seen, although he wouldn't ask about it. He seemed to understand that some things had to be left alone. Despite being a pompous asshole, he understood. His mind wandered to why he knew, why his hands were always covered and hidden. He wanted to see them, even when... last night... he hadn't taken them off during it. And his obsession with Danny's hands? It was all very weird to him.
Nothing was normal at this point though, he couldn't even find things right in front of him. She was still talking, he realized. He hadn't even realized until she said something about Vlad. He looked at her hesitantly,"What do you know about him?" She shook her head violently, showing him that she was just as clueless as he was. She only knew that he constantly had to get treated for his hands. And the only reason why she knew that was because she was the one who had to bandage him up every so often. She told him that he had been in therapy for a while, though she didn't know exactly why. He thanked her and asked her to change the sheets for him. The way she looked at him made Danny feel sick. He let her talk as she did her chores, only half-listening to her stories. He enjoyed the company, it made him feel better.
She wasn't scared of him like the others were, they had all looked at him with fear when he tried to ask questions. She didn't. Her presence was comforting and warm, like a sister... And her red hair seemed to ease him more than anything. "My name is Danny by the way," he sat down and fiddled with the lamp on the desk. She turned and smiled brightly, "Well it's wonderful to talk with you Danny!" Then she left. Why hadn't she told him her name? That wasn't fair at all. It made him feel as if introducing himself had been pointless. Maybe it had been to some extent, it seemed like the only people who wanted to really know him were few. And by few he meant one. But even Vlad wasn't too interested in having a full conversation with him, he was more interested in proving that he was smarter, that he was the one in charge of everything. That might not be wrong either, as Danny was too lost in Dreamland to be aware of anything.
It was around eleven in the morning when Danny couldn't contain his boredom. Vlad hadn't come by once, and after the maid had left he was stuck with nothing to do. It was frustrating, as if Vlad expected Danny to stay cooped up all day. He looked out the window and winced, the sun glaring off of the snow and nearly blinding him. Maybe he should get some fresh air. He didn't even know how long it had been since he had been stuck in this cold and gray place. He should get some real light, or otherwise he would wither and die like a rose without water. Maybe he was already withering. He found the large coat Vlad had given him on that first encounter, his ears turning red. He had been so kind then, had it all been an act? A lie to get him to willingly come in? He shoved his arms through the sleeves, the proceeded to struggle with the damn zipper for a full five minutes.
Danny gave it one good tug, then huffed when the zipper broke clean off. What? How the hell did that happen? He looked at the small tab in desperation, trying to put it back on. Come on, he loved this coat! Why did it have to break then and there? Right when he was about to go outside? He thought that whoever was up in the sky was laughing right now, laughing at him. It seemed about right, it seemed as if the whole of everything was against him. He knew it wasn't true but- wait. What? Hold on. The zipper was fixed, it hadn't been broken at all. It was zipped up perfectly fine. Then what was he holding? He looked down, his hand a fist around it. He could feel something there, he could feel the cold metal warming up and digging into his skin. He opened up his hand slowly, revealing nothing. There was absolutely nothing in his palm.
He had felt it though, he knew it was there a moment ago. Now he just stared in confusion. So it wasn't just his vision now, he was imagining situations that weren't real. Like an insane person. No, Danny wasn't crazy, there was no way he was crazy. He was just confused, he hadn't had proper air in days. He had been touched last night... his brain just wasn't working at full speed. That's it. It'd be over soon, he knew it would. He quickly left the room, stepping into the looming hallway. Okay, all he had to do was find a way out to the gardens he had hid in. That wasn't too hard. As he began to walk, he found himself focusing more and more on the carpet. There were strange patterns hidden in the fabric, faces staring up at him and laughing. Taunting him, calling his name. Okay, he knew that wasn't real. Unless Vlad had murdered people and their ghosts were stuck in that carpet. Which Danny highly doubted.
His parents had been obsessed with ghosts, always telling him scary stories before he went to bed. Danny grew to love things related to the supernatural, he almost loved it as much as space. They told him long stories of all the ghost hunts they helped with, all of them were unsuccessful. Even though they were more obsessed with ghosts than the want to pay attention to their kids, Danny loved him with all his heart. They were gone. His parents were gone, and they wouldn't ever speak to each other again. He leaned against the wall, shock hitting him. He'd never see his mom, he'd never hear his dad's booming laugh. He couldn't remember, he used to be able to. He used to be able to hear every inflection in his father's voice, but now it was toneless. He couldn't remember it. What did they look like? Maybe... maybe he needed to remember, maybe it was for the best. He didn't want to remember, it would hurt more to remember their voices than to not know.
Danny picked up his feet, starting to walk again. Fresh air, that was what he needed. He didn't need to remember. Remembering wasn't important. It took him a long time to find the glass door, but through it he could see the snow. He needed to touch something real for a moment, he needed his bare skin to feel things other than stone and cloth. He stepped outside, the cold wind rushing against his face. He took a deep breath, the air hurting his lungs. This. He needed this. He grabbed a fistful of snow with his bare hands, biting into it with delight. He had lived in this for such a long time, but only now did he appreciate it. He ran. He had no reason to, if only to get his blood pumping. The cold cleared his thoughts, making everything bright and sharp. He could think, holy baby, he could think. Nothing was muddled, and he looked up at the sky. He was there, this was a moment where he was fully there. I'm here, I'm alive and I'm here. I'm here right now, breathing. He laughed, the sudden burst of energy filling him with light. It was wonderful.
Vlad finished his phone calls up, but found himself in another predicament. He had an appointment. One that needed to happen. He stared at the small memo unhappily. Looking at the clock, he let out a long sigh. He could probably leave Daniel alone for an hour or two longer. The boy was probably holed up in his room, not wanting to move. And there was no way that the boy was idiotic enough to go outside. He hadn't fully healed up from his time out there, his immune system was still weakened, and if he went out there again he would get sick. Very sick. Vlad didn't need him getting sick, not after he already had the boy all fixed up. Daniel was smarter than that, surely. He'd have to tell the staff to keep an eye on him, make sure he eats and stays within the areas that he should. He would tell them that before he left.
The older began to pack his small bag. He had to bring paperwork, his prescription, whatever. He hadn't made any progress with the new medicine, anybody could see that. They could tell just by looking at his hands. He wasn't allowed to wear his gloves when they were fresh like this, but luckily the servant had covered every bit of skin with bandage. He paused, glancing out the window and missing Danny by little more than a second. He hoped his little badger would be fine without him, but he also knew he needed some space. Surely he was still thinking about it like Vlad was. Surely it wasn't just him. The boy had to be stuck on it. Vlad grabbed his keys, suddenly nervous at the thought of the visit. No, he had to go. Even if he hated the doctor and his worried face. He was fine, his hands were the problem. If he didn't have them... he'd have a lot less to worry about.
