A/N: Yes, another two part chapter. But the second part is more than half written so it shouldn't be long. And this story remains 12 chapters long, by the way! In my mind!
A/N2: Certain things from 'Won't be Waiting' and 'I Guess we're done' are referenced in here. Don't think reading them is essential, but it might help.
A/N3: For InSilva, for the preread and for being patient and understanding. Even if she does say I'm useless. ;)
There was a certain feeling of déjà vu here.
He was sitting in Catherine's office behind her desk, holding a milkshake in a plastic cup, waiting for Catherine to get in.
Was just like four years ago.
Only difference was, Danny was spread out on the couch in the corner, sipping coffee and looking just a little impatient. Danny was here with him and that meant that it was as different as could be imagined.
There was a noise in the doorway and Catherine unlocked her office door, stepped inside, saw him and jumped about a foot in the air, dropping her files on the floor.
Definite déjà vu.
"I told you that you needed to get better locks, Catherine," he scolded her mildly.
Danny picked up the file that she'd dropped and handed it to her, smiling unaffectedly. "It's nice to see you again."
She looked from one to the other of them. "And you...Rusty, when did you get out?"
"Few months back," he said easily. "Coffee?"
She took the polystyrene cup absently. "Thanks. I take it this isn't a social call?"
When was it ever?
"We need you to set up some paperwork for us," Danny said, stepping forwards. "The legit stuff. Power of attorney...everything that Rusty got you to cancel four years ago."
Her smile was genuine and delighted. "I can do that."
Danny didn't think he was going to stop smiling anytime soon as they walked away from Catherine's office. Even the painful moment. after Catherine had made Rusty promise that he'd call her if he was arrested again, and Rusty had laughed and said he wasn't planning on getting arrested again, and she'd given him a look and sharply pointed out that she didn't imagine he'd planned on getting arrested the first time round – even that hadn't managed to completely dampen the relief and the exultation.
Rusty was a part of his life. Rusty had made sure that Danny got to be a part of his life, no matter what. And it mattered.
"Only you could be pleased about two hours spent signing your name," Rusty told him seriously.
The smile got just a bit broader. "That was the best birthday present I've had in a long time."
Rusty looked at him. "Wasn't your birthday present," he said firmly. "That was just a good idea."
"Yeah," he sighed contentedly. A very good idea.
Rusty shook his head and darted down a side street in a direction that was anything but random. "Come on," he called back, sounding amused. "You can buy me some lunch."
He hurried to catch up. "Whose birthday is it anyway?" he demanded.
Rusty had never forgotten Danny's birthday. Not once, not since he'd met Danny. And that included the four years he'd spent inside.
The first year, it had been just a little while before Kowalski and the first time. He'd been surviving, existing, trying not to think of Danny any more than all day, every day. And that first year, Danny's birthday, and he'd actually thought of getting in touch. Oh, not a phonecall, definitely not that. Nothing that Danny had to respond to. He'd thought of sending something, just some little token that would tell Danny that he was okay, maybe even show Danny that he still remembered, whether Danny wanted him to or not. In the end he hadn't. A clean break was kinder, he told himself. But he'd conned Big Mick out of the hooch he'd stolen from RJ and he'd left Mick standing there with three tins of floor polish, wearing just his socks and a confused expression, and he'd let himself imagine the amusement in Danny's eyes, let himself fill in Danny's half of the conversation. Natural justice and a Dannylike plan, and he'd lain in his bunk and drank the hooch that RJ had given him by way of saying 'thanks' and he'd wished Danny Happy Birthday inside his head.
The second year he hadn't considered getting in touch. Was already far too late for that and nowadays, when he tried to imagine Danny, there was more disappointment than amusement in his eyes. Still, he tricked the guards into giving Fernando an extra phone card and he won a slug of rum in a poker game and that was a sort of celebration. All he needed was some pineapple, some coconut and a maraschino cherry and he'd have a drink worth drinking. In the meantime, he hoped Danny was happy. Hoped he and Tess were somewhere they called home, living a good life. Hoped Danny had everything he could possibly want.
The third year he'd been in the infirmary. Felding, of course, but it hadn't been so bad. Couple of stitches in an intimate area, couple of cracked ribs, couple of weeks of not talking while he gave the bruises on his throat and vocal cords time to heal and that was about it. Danny's birthday and it had been a day since Felding had hurt him and he was still in the place of painkillers and numbness, lying in bed while Moffatt gently pressed chipped ice to his lips. He couldn't feel anything. And somewhere, in his head and out of it, Danny was blowing out thirty seven candles on a birthday cake. Wasn't a bad life.
Fourth year there had been Moffatt. For over nine months now, there had been Moffatt. And it wasn't surprising that he was trapped in one of Moffatt's little games on Danny's birthday, wasn't surprising at all.
Moffatt and Danny were worlds apart. And he'd been at the bottom of the paint factory, with Moffatt and RJ and Santos when they'd heard the guard coming down the stairs. There'd been a mad scramble. Soft swearing. Pulling clothes on. And by the time Mr. Cready was standing staring at them, Rusty's hands were untied and they were all fully dressed.
"What's going on?" Mr Cready demanded.
"Nothing," Moffatt said immediately, and the others murmured their agreement.
Mr Cready didn't look like he believed them.
"We were just sorting these boxes," Moffatt added convincingly.
Rusty could feel the stickiness caked between his legs. He could taste the bitter salt at the back of his throat. And he knew that if he stood up, Mr Cready would be able to see the blood staining the bottom of his overalls, he could already feel it slowly pooling beneath where he was sat.
Mr Cready was still watching. Still frowning.
Rusty blinked heavily, innocently, and gestured at the boxes surrounding them. "Mr Warner told us to tidy up a bit," he explained. Warner and Cready hated each other. No way Cready would ever check the story. "For the warden's inspection tomorrow. We're nearly done."
The story was plausible, and he and Moffatt at least were trusted. After a couple of warnings, Cready left them to their work.
Santos had him on his back almost before Cready's footsteps had faded away.
Moffatt's thumb brushed over his lips tenderly. "My, my, aren't you the eager little liar?"
He turned his face away.
On Danny's birthday, he figured that the very best he could do for Danny was to try not to think of him, even for a second. Danny and Moffatt were worlds apart. And Rusty knew where he belonged.
He still knew where he belonged.
And where he belonged was here, with Danny, in this ridiculous restaurant, watching Danny look down doubtfully at the glass floor and the people milling around the carousel far below.
"Makes me glad I'm not wearing a skirt," Danny commented as the waiter led them to their private table.
Rusty grinned. "Oh, I'm glad you're not wearing a skirt too," he assured Danny.
"The underside of the glass is frosted, sirs," the waiter assured them. "Our customers cannot be seen by the public."
He frowned at Danny. "Think he's trying to tell you that you can wear a skirt if you really like," he whispered and Danny's face was carefully blank.
"Can I bring you the wine list?" the waiter asked, as they got settled at the table.
Rusty opened his mouth but Danny beat him to it. "Just a glass of coke and a mineral water," he said firmly.
He waited until the waiter had vanished before he objected. "It's your birthday," he said quietly. He wanted to celebrate. Properly.
"You're on antibiotics," Danny said, meeting his gaze easily.
Yeah. And he didn't want this to interfere, he wanted this one day to be about Danny. All about Danny.
"There'll be other times," Danny said steadily. "In the meantime, I'm with you and that's all I need."
He raised an eyebrow.
Danny smiled slightly. "It's my birthday. I'm allowed to be sentimental."
"That in the rules now?" he asked lightly.
"Since when are there rules?" Danny wondered.
He laughed. Okay. No alcohol. He supposed he could live with that. As long as they were together.
Danny had no idea where Rusty had found this restaurant but he loved it. The food was fantastic and there was something to be said for people watching through the floor. And the company, of course, was the very best that he could ask for.
His last four birthdays hadn't been like this.
Oh, they hadn't been bad. The first three Tess had been there and she'd loved him and she'd done her very best to make him happy, to make it matter. Certainly there had been cake and presents and everything he'd thought he wanted. It had just never been enough. All the time, he'd felt dead inside. Empty.
And last year he'd been with Linus, in Philadelphia, and they'd been right in the middle of reconnaissance on David Barker's house, and he didn't even know how Linus had found out, but he had, and he'd taken Danny out for drinks and pizza and it really had been fun. Danny had kept the kid laughing for hours at all the stories that didn't mention Rusty.
But this was better, of course. This was much better.
They lingered over lunch, and it wasn't until Danny was scooping up the last spoonful of lemon tiramisu that Rusty smiled at him and passed the envelope across the table.
"Happy Birthday, Danny," he said.
Danny smiled at him. "Thank you"
"You haven't even seen what it is yet," Rusty pointed out, sounding amused.
Didn't matter what it was. It really didn't. But he opened it anyway. "Oh," he breathed.
Invitations to the Oscars. Two.
He felt the smile widen impossibly. Oh, that was going to be amazing. Chance of a lifetime.
"We're going to need to stay in character," Rusty warned apologetically. "You're a big-shot writer and I'm a special effects guru. And we probably want to dodge the red carpet."
Didn't matter. Danny smiled appreciatively. "Thank you," he said again softly and he watched Rusty smile.
And the experience – fantastic though it sounded – was only half of the present. The other half, the half that was even more wonderful, the half that made him feel like his heart would just burst, was in what Rusty was telling him. What Rusty was offering him.
The Oscars weren't until March. More than six months away. And Rusty had got tickets – was making plans – for a future that wasn't simply abstract. Meant that Rusty wanted him to know that in six months time he'd still be here. Still be with Danny. Life wasn't just about day to day survival anymore and Danny simply couldn't be happier.
"Thank you," he said again, meeting Rusty's eyes, and he knew that they both knew exactly what he was thankful for.
They spent the rest of the day in aimless joy. Eventually, drinking coffee and watching the people go by in the restaurant got dull and they headed out into the world.
A short cut through the park and there was some kind of festival going on and they stood on a bridge in silence and watched as a thousand balloons were launched into the sky. Behind them, a nervous looking girl holding a Polaroid camera asked if they wanted their picture taken.
"Yes," Danny said at once. "Oh, yes."
Rusty handed over twenty dollars and ten minutes later the picture had vanished inside Danny's jacket like it was more precious than any jewel, and he had simply smiled and shaken his head at Rusty's thoughtful look.
A movie theatre chosen at random and the movie showing was quite possibly the worst they'd ever seen and their silent commentary didn't let up for a second and it became a game of 'who can make the other laugh first'.
It was a perfect day and Danny still couldn't stop smiling as they headed back to the hotel room with a selection of new DVDs.
Night of movies and room service and Rusty.
Why would he want anything more?
It had been a good day. Rusty was happy. "You want a drink?" he asked Danny, over his shoulder, as they walked into the room and he dropped his jacket casually over the back of the couch. "Might have managed to pick up a bottle of eighteen-year-old malt and keep it hidden."
There was silence. Very definitely no answer.
He sighed and paused in the act of removing the whisky from his suitcase. "I wasn't going to have any. You're still allowed to drink, you know even if..."
He trailed off, suddenly aware that he wasn't even close to what Danny had been thinking of.
Abandoning the whisky, he quickly turned round and Danny was staring at him, misery in his eyes.
The last time. The last time they'd had a day like this and he'd been falling over himself to make Danny happy, and they'd come back and he'd fixed Danny a drink and...
"Oh, Danny," he said, softly, horrified, crossing the room in a heartbeat, grasping Danny's hands quickly. "I'm sorry. No drugs. Not ever again."
"Better not be," Danny murmured, taking a deep breath and his voice was still a little shaky.
The guilt was inescapable and he held Danny's hands tightly. "Not ever again," he repeated, and it was all the promise Danny would ever need.
After a moment Danny smiled crookedly at him. "You planning on letting go anytime soon?"
"Hadn't thought of it," he said simply.
Danny nodded seriously. "Could make it difficult to get things done."
He shrugged and made no attempt to let go. "I like to think we're adaptable."
"Right," Danny agreed. "Only there's chocolate tart with cappuccino mousse on the menu. You really want to try eating without your hands?"
A shard of memory screamed in his head and he blinked away the echo furiously, and without even thinking about it he'd let go of Danny's hands, and stepped away.
Danny was looking at him anxiously, apologising immediately without even knowing why, asking all the questions, and Rusty shook his head. Nothing they needed to talk about. Nothing he couldn't cope with.
Nodding slowly, Danny smiled. "Should have known you'd choose chocolate tart over me," he said lightly.
"Never," Rusty said fiercely, before he'd even thought about playing.
The look in Danny's eyes told him that Danny didn't really mind. Not one bit.
He cleared his throat and turned away. "Do you want the – "
" – let's save it," Danny said decidedly. "We'll open it when Stan says you're allowed to drink again." There was an unspoken thought hanging in the air; Danny thought that whisky tasted better when it was shared.
Sounded good to him. "So you mentioned chocolate tart?" he asked brightly, reaching for the room service menu.
Danny had his phone in his hand. "Didn't turn it back on after we left the movie theatre," he commented. "Huh. Three missed calls."
"It is your birthday," Rusty pointed out, checking his wallet ruefully. He'd meant to hit the ATM. Not much he could offer for a tip.
Danny nodded absently. "Linus, Reuben and..." He trailed off.
Rusty looked at him sharply. "What?" he demanded, fearfully, possibilities flying through his head.
"Tess..." Danny said blankly.
"Oh," he exhaled. "You – "
" – yeah," Danny said quietly. "Yeah. I have to."
He nodded uncertainly. "You want me to – "
That got a grateful smile. " – no. You stay here. I'll just..." He nodded vaguely towards the door. "Just get me the grilled chicken and the apricot parfait, will you? Oh, and there's cash in my wallet."
Rusty watched him walk out the door and just a little bit of his good mood had evaporated. He turned the TV on and resolutely didn't think about Tess or about DannyandTess and he pretended that the TV wasn't the only thing keeping him from feeling utterly lonely.
Danny still wasn't back by the time their food arrived. He let the guy push the trolley inside and grabbed Danny's wallet for the tip.
He was still staring into Danny's wallet a long time after the guy had left.
Danny sat on the stairs and stared blankly at his phone. He'd called Linus first and then Reuben. That had been easy. Just like expected. They'd wanted to wish him a happy birthday, wanted to know how he was, how they'd been doing, what they'd been doing, and he'd shared the easy stories and asked the deflecting questions and he liked talking to them. Easy.
Tess...he didn't know what he wanted to say to her. Didn't know if he wanted to say anything to her.
Oh, he'd texted her after the Benedict job. Just a quick message to let her know that everything was settled, that everyone was safe. It had been short. Abrupt. Maybe even rude.
And she'd called him a couple of times in the days that followed, but those had been the bad days, the days of no sleep and constant fear, the days when they'd had to keep moving for fear of losing everything, the days when he'd been genuinely afraid that if he closed his eyes – even for a second – then Rusty would be gone. In the midst of all that, talking to Tess hadn't seemed so very important.
He hadn't talked to her. And now he didn't know how. Every time he thought of her he remembered that four years ago she'd known what Rusty was planning, she'd agreed to what Rusty was planning, and she hadn't told him. And for three years after that they'd slept in the same bed and she'd never said a word.
And yet he still loved her.
And yet he'd always still love her.
He gave up on searching for the right words.
The phone only rang twice before she picked it up. "Hello?"
"Hi, Tess." His voice was hoarse.
"Danny!" She sounded shocked. "I wasn't expecting...I mean you haven't..." She sighed. "Happy Birthday, Danny."
"Thanks," he said and the pause was awkward and interminable. "So, how are you?" he asked at last.
"Fine," she said immediately. "And you?"
"I'm okay," he told her.
There was another long moment. "And Rusty?" she asked tentatively. "Is he...is he okay? Have you seen him?"
He couldn't help himself. "You actually care?"
"That's not fair, Danny," she said, and her voice was soft and hurt. "This was never what I wanted."
"I know," he said quietly. "I know that."
"So you forgive me?" The question was eager. Urgent.
He should answer her. He knew he should. Even if it was a lie, he should say something. But somehow, he couldn't say anything at all.
The silence stretched out endlessly.
"I'm sorry, Danny," she said, quiet and anguished.
"Yeah," he said. "I know." He sighed.
"Will you come and see me?" she asked hesitantly. "I think maybe we need to talk."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said at once. He wasn't sure of a lot of things and he didn't want Rusty and Tess close to each other and he didn't want to leave Rusty alone.
"Please," Tess said insistently.
He sighed again. "I'll think about it, Tess."
"Good. I've...I've got to go." Her voice sounded choked and she hung up abruptly and he thought that maybe she didn't want him to hear her cry.
He never wanted to make her cry.
God. He didn't know the right thing to do. And he wanted to talk to Rusty about it, except the last thing he wanted to do was talk to Rusty about it. Like Rusty didn't have enough problems.
He sat on the stairs and stared blankly at his phone and he was taken completely by surprise when it actually started ringing. In fact, he answered it without even checking the number.
"Hello," he said, wondering with a tremor of guilt if Rusty had maybe got worried about him.
"Happy Birthday, Danny." Saul's voice was warm and Danny found himself smiling immediately.
"Thanks," he answered. "How have you been?"
They swapped stories for a few moments, nothing terribly exciting, nothing significant, but that didn't mean it wasn't enough to make Danny's day just that bit brighter.
"How's Rusty?" Saul asked presently, and there was just a hint in his voice, just the barest sense of unrest and quiet misery.
Danny knew that Rusty had talked to Saul just a few days ago. He also knew that Rusty hadn't talked to Saul for a lot longer than that. And he knew that the last time Saul had actually seen Rusty had been the end of the Benedict job and that was two months back now.
"He's doing okay, Saul," he said sincerely. "Really he is."
"Yes," Saul said, and again the unhappiness was almost completely hidden. "That is what he always says too."
"I'm not lying, Saul," he promised gently.
"But there is something," Saul said heavily.
Danny hesitated because there was, there was always something, and he didn't know exactly what it was, and he didn't want to tell Saul that Rusty had a problem with him.
"Is he hurt?" Saul asked with quiet agony.
"No," Danny said immediately.
There was silence.
Danny couldn't exactly lie. "Well, no more than...he's doing better, Saul."
"Is he...is he upset with me?" Saul asked in a whisper.
"No!" Danny's denial was instantaneous. It wasn't that. He knew it wasn't that. "Absolutely not."
"I'm sorry, Danny," Saul said with a sigh. "I shouldn't have...I'll let you get back to your evening. Happy Birthday again." His voice was cheerful as he wished Danny good night and Danny wasn't fooled for a second.
"Bye, Saul," he said and he heard the phone hang up.
He bit his lip. That was two people he cared about upset tonight. And he didn't know what he wanted to do about Tess but he was certainly going to do something for Saul.
Oh, he knew that wasn't what Saul wanted. Not like Saul had phoned him up with an ulterior motive; he had wanted to wish Danny a happy birthday, nothing more. The rest, Saul just wasn't able to hide.
Already he was thinking. Plans in motion. No trickery, no manipulation, no forcing anyone to do anything they didn't want to...But there were opportunities. And he could always make suggestions.
When he walked back into their hotel room Rusty looked up sharply like he was startled to see him, and Danny caught sight of something vanishing into Rusty's pocket.
"Everything alright?" Rusty asked, studying Danny anxiously, and now Danny was the one caught by surprise.
"Yeah," he said, closing the door behind him.
"How's Tess?" Rusty asked carefully.
"Fine," he said and he watched Rusty absorb the lie with narrowed eyes.
Rusty just nodded though. "Right. Food's here."
It was still hot. He couldn't have been gone for quite as long as he thought.
They ate in silence for a while.
"You know, I was thinking," he began, spearing a piece of chicken carefully with his fork. "You know couple of weeks back? That plan we figured for Roland Vicker's house? It really could work. We could make it work."
Rusty didn't look up from his plate. "Would need more than two of us."
"Yeah," he agreed, and he left it a beat. "Vickers' house is only an hour from Saul's new place, isn't it?"
"No," Rusty said immediately and Danny knew that the disagreement had nothing to do with his grasp of geography.
He sighed. "It would be fun, Rus'. We've been talking about hitting Vickers for years. And this is the first workable plan – "
" – sure, but Saul won't be interested," Rusty said quickly. "He's talking about retiring, settling down – "
" – He's been talking about retiring for years now," Danny pointed out glibly. "One last job is always gonna appeal."
Rusty looked stricken and Danny bit his tongue. Yeah, Saul had been talking about getting out of the game for a while. But Rusty hadn't been here for any of those conversations.
"Rus'..." He sighed and shook his head. "You could ask him," he suggested gently. Not like Saul was going to say no. Not like Saul wouldn't jump at the opportunity to see Rusty again.
"You going to see her?" Rusty asked abruptly.
"What?" For once Danny was bewildered by the change in conversation. How had they gotten onto Tess exactly?"
In response, Rusty pulled Danny's wallet out of his pocket and tossed it over to him.
Danny stared at the wallet blankly for a moment before realisation dawned. Oh...He reached into the wallet and pulled out his wedding ring. "This?" he asked. "It's over, Rusty."
Rusty disagreed. "It's not."
It wasn't. "It's almost over," he offered instead. "And yes, I kept the ring." He risked a smile. "Face it, we both know I'm all about the sentimental. You think I wouldn't have kept it?"
Rusty's eyes flickered involuntarily to Danny's left wrist. "Guess you're right," he said brightly, desperately trying to cover the moment.
Danny's smile froze. Automatically, he pulled his sleeve down, trying to hide the watch that wasn't there, the watch he'd thrown away. He'd never found anything to replace it. Nothing that felt right. Oh, he had a watch that he wore when he had to and it was...nice. Subtle. Expensive. Comfortable. But it wasn't the watch he'd worn every day for fifteen years. It wasn't his watch.
"I think you should," Rusty said, after a second. "See Tess, I mean. You want to."
He did. Almost as much as he didn't. "It's complicated," he said shortly.
"You want to see her," Rusty said again.
"Why don't you want to talk to Saul?" Danny demanded just a little too sharply.
"It's not..." Rusty shook his head and ran his hand agitatedly through his hair. "Look. Let's just forget this, huh? It's your birthday. Let's just watch some DVDs or something." He smiled persuasively. "You got birthday cake in the fridge, you know."
Danny hesitated. It was almost tempting. Just let the pain drift by and enjoy the rest of the evening. But he couldn't. He swallowed hard. "I want to see Tess again," he admitted. "It's just...in Vegas...things ended suddenly. She's got questions. I've got questions. I hurt her," And she hurt me, he didn't add. "I want – "
" – you want to make things right," Rusty finished, and his eyes were fixed on Danny's, and his voice was understanding.
He nodded jerkily. "Yeah."
"I think you should see her, Danny. You're not going to be happy unless you do."
And maybe that was true, but he didn't want to take Rusty with him, he remembered the lie that Carson had convinced Tess of. Him and Rusty as lovers. And Tess hadn't believed that when she'd left, but he couldn't risk there being any doubt in his mind. It wasn't an accusation that Rusty should have to face. If there was any argument it was between him and Tess; he didn't want Rusty anywhere near it.
"Sometime," he offered.
"Soon," Rusty countered and Danny frowned because Rusty's smile was forced and distant.
He stared. "Rus'," he began gently. "Me and Tess aren't going to get back together again. You know that, right?"
Rusty turned his head away sharply. "If it's because of me – "
Oh, he was putting a stop to that thought right now. " – nothing to do with – "
Rusty carried on talking, not looking at Danny, not listening to Danny. " – just because I'm all fucked-in-the-head doesn't mean you can't live your life – "
" – I got divorced, and you are not 'fucked-in-the-head – " Danny said tightly
" – I want you happy," Rusty finished desperately.
"So do I," Danny rejoined immediately.
Rusty looked at him anxiously. "Tess – "
" – yeah," Danny agreed. He understood, honestly he did. He was hurting and Rusty wanted to make it better. "I need to talk to her. Nothing more than that."
"Okay," Rusty said, and Danny knew he was only half-convinced but he didn't want to push him anymore tonight. Not about that. "You want some cake?"
"You want to tell me what's going on with you and Saul?" he asked gently.
"I'd rather have cake," Rusty told him lightly, after a pause and he might as well have said in so many words 'I am never going to tell you'.
Danny hadn't wanted to resort to this. But he thought maybe he had to. "Saul was asking," he said quietly. "He wanted to know if you were upset with him."
Rusty's eyes were wide and horrified. "I'm not – "
" – I know," Danny cut in quickly. "I told him so. But you're hurting him, Rusty."
"I'm trying not to hurt him," Rusty said with soft desperation.
Danny reached across the table, his hand hovering inches from Rusty's. "Tell me,"
For a moment, he thought that it wasn't enough, that Rusty was going to shut himself off, was going to keep this secret. Then Rusty sighed and looked at him unhappily. "You remember...?" He shut his eyes tightly for a second. "Stupid question. You remember. The nightmare I had seven weeks ago."
There had been so many nightmares. But Danny knew the one Rusty was talking about. The one when Rusty had tried to kill him, and he felt a shiver run down his spine just at the thought of it. He was going to remember the way Rusty had looked at him till his dying day.
He licked his lips. "Wha'...what..." He hadn't asked. He never asked. Sometimes Rusty told him, but he never asked.
"Was just Him at first," Rusty said distantly, standing up from the table and walking over to the window. "He was in the hotel room. Said a couple of things, did a couple of things," He shrugged uncaringly. "That part doesn't matter so much. And then He told me that I was only good for one thing and everyone knew that, and then most of the guys from the Benedict job...Reuben and Bash and Frank and everyone." He stopped for a moment and Danny couldn't bear the silence and the pictures were in his mind and he couldn't even begin to speak. "And Saul was there..." Rusty went on, the words falling out of him and Danny knew he was reliving every word. "And he said...and I begged him...and he held me down and – "
" – Saul would never," Danny interrupted tightly, and just the thought made him feel sick inside, just the thought that Rusty could ever think. And he remembered hearing Rusty beg. Remembered the frightened and the hopeless and the desperate and Rusty had been talking to Saul and it hurt. "Saul would never."
"You think I don't know that?" Rusty demanded, turning round to face him and there were tears rolling down his face. "I know Saul would never. God, Danny."
"You're not scared of Saul," Danny said slowly.
"No," Rusty insisted vehemently. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again the misery was vast and uncontainable. "But everything you're thinking right now? Everything you're feeling? Imagine how Saul would feel if he knew."
There was a long silence and Danny could imagine how Saul would feel, could imagine the look on Saul's face exactly and he knew how difficult it was to hide from Saul.
Still. "You can't avoid him forever, Rus'," he pointed out gently.
"I want the memory to fade first," Rusty said quietly.
And Danny wished that would work. But this was Rusty's memory they were talking about and it just didn't work that way and he knew all that Rusty really wanted was to stay as far away as possible. And he knew that Rusty knew that. "It'll get better if you – we - spend time with him," he suggested.
Rusty nodded. "But he'll – "
" – we're talking about Saul, Rus'," he interrupted firmly. "He'll understand. You don't need to tell him anything and he won't ask and he'll understand."
Rusty looked down at his hands for a long moment, his fingers twisting nervously together. "You ever think that maybe some things are a step too far? Maybe some things are...unforgiveable."
They weren't talking about the nightmare anymore. Weren't talking about the horror that Rusty's subconscious had dreamt up. And Danny had been with Rusty every day to offer reassurance, to remind Rusty exactly how he felt. Saul hadn't had that opportunity.
There was a part of him that wanted to ask. A part of him that wanted to know exactly what Rusty had...exactly what had been done to Rusty that Rusty thought he couldn't be forgiven for. The cold, hard, merciless part of him that wanted to know names and places and details so that it could see justice done.
He couldn't ask. Not now.
He stood up and crossed the room, standing right in front of Rusty, close enough to touch, and he was relieved to see that Rusty was nowhere close to losing control. "You want to point out exactly what, in all this, was even close to being your fault?" he asked mildly.
Rusty smiled ever so slightly. "It's not my fault?"
"Right," he agreed.
Sighing, Rusty leaned forwards and his head was on Danny's shoulder his hands tight against Danny's chest. "You ever think of writing a self-help book?" he asked.
He laughed. "Not sure anyone else would get it," he pointed out.
Rusty nodded. "They'd need to have you," he agreed and he leaned in a little closer. "I'm lucky." His voice was light but wrapped up in that was all the 'Thank you' and 'I need you' and 'I wouldn't have survived without you' in the world.
Danny held him tightly. "So – "
" – we'll go see Saul," Rusty said definitely.
"Good," Danny smiled, relieved. "So. You said something about cake?"
Rusty lifted his head and grinned at him. "Coffee cake," he agreed. "And I bought enough candles to celebrate the fact that you're old."
Oh, that was...He sulked. "Just for that you're not getting any."
"Like you'd ever stick to that," Rusty said, shaking his head.
Danny sighed. Rusty was right. He wouldn't.
A/N: Next part decidedly soonish!