"You're cold?" Danny asked timidly, and in his voice there was something like fear.
"Yes, little badger, I am," Vlad said gently, holding Danny's gaze for a brief moment before looking away.
Slowly Vlad climbed to his feet, reached down his gloved hand, and feebly ruffled Danny's unruly tresses. When Danny cringed away, Vlad felt his heart—or whatever lay beneath his chest—shatter. Daniel looked as if he had just been touched with a burning brand, rather than a gentle and somewhat hesitant hand. His wide eyes were averted and staring in the direction of Casper High. The building was just visible from where they were, and though the sight of it must hold so many painful memories for him now, Vlad realized it was easier for Daniel to face all the pain that that school instigated than to face him. And this realization seemed to shatter those fragile pieces that were left of his heart into even smaller, more permanently unfixable pieces.
Vlad was unsure why he had expected anything otherwise. If he'd been in the same situation as Daniel, there was no doubt in his mind he would have cringed away in the same fashion. Here was this socially-awkward teenage boy, so confused and alone and afraid, who'd lost his family and was now forced to live with the person who'd been the main cause of his problems for as long as he'd had his odd condition. What this person expected of him was that he dismissed all the feelings of hatred he'd developed for him prior to the accident, and this person would also, but it was easy for this person because there was no hatred for him to begin with. This person could give him this affectionate gesture and feel almost comfortable doing so. But how could the boy? How could this boy, who'd been threatened, beaten, and diminished by this person, let go of this hatred that had been so well-built from every battle he'd escaped humiliated and broken? Was it even fair to ask this of him?
Vlad knew he had no right to expect that Daniel became the perfect son he'd always wanted, with all of the attributes of the perfect son—someone who'd tell him when there was something the matter in his life and ask for guidance, come to him for comfort in times of sadness, openly express his affection for him, call him father. He knew he had no right to expect that Daniel move on from the life he'd lost and become happy to be with him. He knew he had no right to expect that Daniel not cringe away when he ruffled his hair… but he did. And when these expectations were not met, it was more painful for him than anyone could ever know.
Vlad knelt down in front of Danny, who glanced at him quickly, his pupils the size of the head of a pin, frightened. Then, his eyes darted away and back to the direction of the ominous structure of the school.
"Danny. Danny, look at me," Vlad said, and it was the first time Danny had ever heard Vlad sound so utterly helpless. His voice was quiet and timorous, the voice of someone who is so afraid of rejection that every word they utter seems as risky as answering the bonus question on a television game show to either double the money or to lose it all in one fell swoop. Vlad was not asking Danny to look at him—he was pleading.
However, Danny's eyes were unchanging, and when Vlad became aware that he would not be granted this, he reached out and took Danny's face in his hands without any deliberation whatsoever before doing so. Danny retaliated with a small, weak sound of surprise. His body jerked violently, and whether this was unintentional or not Vlad did not know. But when Danny began to squirm desperately, his eyes shut tightly and his teeth clenched, Vlad felt those shards of his heart break again.
Danny struggled and writhed in his grasp to no avail, and Vlad's hold on his face did not lessen because he was aware that he would not allow this to go on between them. He would not let Daniel shut him out like this, no matter how simple and painless it would be to do so. If he did, there would be no hope of mending Daniel's broken spirit, or his own, for that matter. They would not live in that house helplessly divided and tap dance around the existence of the other. They would live together, and they would provide for each other what they didn't have—love. If they were ever to do that, they needed this. And he knew this reality was so far off, but he was determined that Daniel see it was not impossible.
"Danny, please stop. Please, little badger, stop."
"Let go," Danny gasped helplessly as he continued to thrash. "Let go."
"Danny, you said you would give me a chance, and that's all I ask of you. Please, my little badger, just give me a chance," Vlad said with softness that sounded unfitting and foreign coming from his mouth.
Danny stopped squirming and stared into Vlad's eyes. In them, he saw nothing but undiluted affection, but he was sure there was something more than that. In those eyes, he saw, for the first time—and he believed it was the first time it had ever shown so openly in those eyes—genuine and untouched love.
Danny's will broke then. His body went limp in Vlad's grasp as he started to cry, overwhelmed with so many different emotions he couldn't place with any certain feelings. Vlad wrapped his arms around him and held him, running his fingers gently and soothingly through his soft hair. Danny laid his head submissively against Vlad's chest and let him hold him, feeling too disheartened and emotionally and physically enervated to protest this affection.
He began to speak as he cried, his voice filled with stronger hopelessness than Vlad had ever heard. "I'm so afraid," he moaned.
"I know you are, my little one, but everything is going to be alright. This pain can't last forever. Things are going to get better for you, Danny, for us. In the end, it will all be okay. I just know it," Vlad said, and pulled Danny closer.
"No it won't," Danny said. "We're all going to die."
"Oh, Danny, no. No, we aren't going to die. Where did you get such an idea?"
"Vlad?"
"Yes, Danny?"
"Please promise me something."
"Of course, Danny. What is it?"
"When I go to live with you, always do what you think is best for me, no matter how much I want the opposite. No matter how much I beg or fight you, no matter how certain I think I am about something, do what you think is best and don't let yourself be persuaded by anything I do. Don't let me make my own decisions. I didn't know what I was doing," he cried softly.
"Oh, Danny, of course I will. You know that all I want is what is best for you."
"Promise, Vlad?"
"I promise, my little badger. I promise."