hi!
disclaimer: standard disclaimer applies. please refer to prologue.
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"Excuse me?"
"I was saying that…my, what striking eyes you have." He could barely think as she stared at him incredulously at first; her expression softened as he spoke.
"If I had a penny for every time I heard that…"she trailed off wistfully, before turning her gaze back to him. "But you have such beautiful eyes too. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"
He shrugged, vaguely noting that it was a stupid answer; people either told him or they didn't. There was nothing to shrug about. "Uh, nice meeting you, Mrs. Walker. Excuse me." Danny knew how rude and pathetic that sounded, but he just couldn't stand there any longer, not in front of her. He walked towards the back door, taking care to walk slowly so as not to arouse further suspicion. The house never felt so stifling before; it was as if the walls were closing in around him, trying to prevent him from leaving.
Then he was out, and in the green cornfield. He tried to calm down, but found himself breaking into a run as he got further from the house. He ran like the wind nipped his heels, uncaring about the uneven ground or even where he was going; he just had to get away. The tall stalks of corn whipped his face and finally gave way to untilled ground, and he tripped so many times but always caught himself in time to keep on running.
Danny may not have cared where he was going, but his instincts led him back to the old hemlock tree that stood at the very edge of the MacCawley property. It grew right next to the roaring river, which was of course forbidden territory to children; when he was young, he would come here when he wanted to be alone. It was his secret place. Not even Rafe knew to look for him here.
He ran right to the edge of the river and fell to his knees in the damp ground, winded; he gasped for air and choked and half-sobbed all at once, unable to bear the fire burning in his chest that came from more than the lack of oxygen. Somewhere in the sky thunder roared, as if it was giving voice to his internal turmoil. Half of him wanted to scream, but the other half just wanted to shrivel up and die.
Slowly, Danny regained his breath and the frantic beating of his heart slowed, soothed by the solitude and the steady rush of the river. He leaned against the hemlock, feeling the bark against his back and looked up to the sky. It was darkening already; the sun glowed red, and it seemed like the sky was painted with blood. Danny closed his eyes, seeking reprieve from the crimson and saw blue skies in framed with long lashes, and abruptly opened them again.
For the first time since he came here, he questioned the reality of what was happening. Why didn't the alarm bells ring when he realised that Rafe wasn't Rafe? Was he crazy? Was this a dream from which he couldn't wake up?
"But you have such beautiful eyes too." Yes, he'd heard that before; contrary to what everyone believed, he did have some memories of his mother. He just didn't remember them very often.
Hushed voices came from behind the closed door. He pressed his ear against the polished wood, knowing very well that he shouldn't be listening.
"Come on Beth, you really need to eat more. You can't get better if you don't get any nutrition." That was his father's voice.
"Cole." His mother's voice was little more than a whisper, but if he leaned against the door real close, he could hear her too. "You know-"
"Don't say it. Just….you will get better, alright?"His mother was not very well; she didn't dance all around the house like she used to, and she wouldn't play anymore. His Dad didn't play anymore too.
"You have a lot of things to learn if you're going to look after Danny. He's reading already, do you know? I think he'll grow up to be intelligent…maybe even get into a university. You'll have to encourage him, to read more and stuff."
"You do it."
He didn't understand. Why did his Dad have to learn to do all these things? Where was his Mom going? Struck by the sudden urge to make sure she was still here, Danny pushed the door open; it was difficult because he couldn't reach the doorknob unless he tiptoed, but he managed to do it.
His Mom and Dad looked up in surprise as he came running into their room. She sat on the bed, looking very tired and his Dad stood by her side. Without really thinking, he clambered into her lap and hugged her. "Please don't go," he said, burying his face in her shoulder. "I won't be naughty anymore, I won't listen at the door."
Gentle hands stroked his hair. "I'm not going anywhere, dear. Not yet."
Contented, he closed his eyes, suddenly aware that he was up far past his bedtime.
"Come on kiddo, let's get you to bed." His Dad's hands were around him, and he suddenly, instinctively clung to his Mom.
"No. I want Mommy."
"She's busy right now."
He still didn't let go. "I want MOMMY."
"It's okay, Cole. I'll take him up."
She carried him up, humming lightly. She rarely ever did that anymore; most of the time, she was too tired to carry him. He looked up into her blue eyes; they were so beautiful, unlike his plain brown ones. "Your eyes are nice, Mom. I wish I have blue eyes," he said sleepily.
She laughed. "But you have such beautiful eyes too. Oh, Danny, what am I going to do with you?"
She sat in the large rocking chair, and begun to rock back and forth. As she did, she sang. It was the song she always sung to him, slow and soft. The rocking motion and her comforting presence lulled him deeper into sleep, content in the knowledge that she was there. Her voice filled the room and he fell asleep, forgetting all about his earlier fear.
She died less than a month later. And then everything went to hell. Much calmer now, Danny absent-mindedly picked at the grass beside him. Clearly, this version of his mother didn't have a son that resembled him; that should have been a relief, because he had no idea how he would have come up with an explanation of who he was. Somehow, it didn't make him feel better. Sitting there under the tree, in his secret place, Danny made a decision. He would go back, thank Rafe and Evelyn for their hospitality and leave. It didn't matter if there was an army of lawyers after them, because he had just found his breaking point.
XXXXX
New York. He never liked the place; it was full of rude, self-obsessed people pretending to be something they were not. It was one of those places that did not seem to feel the effect of the war. Elsewhere, things were more solemn. Most people had already lost someone they knew and this was enough to drape a sense of mortality over the general population.
He knew from the moment he stepped off the train that things hadn't changed much here. It was night when they arrived, and already the streets were full of people dressed to the nines out seeking a good time. A couple standing right outside the station discussed a play that they had just watched and the woman commented that the army band that had played as guests of honour at he beginning could benefit from a few music lessons.
"I'm going home." Louisa's sudden comment stopped him from confronting the woman and asking her whether she knew that half of the men in the band would probably never get to play an instrument ever again.
"Yeah. See you tomorrow then." Daniel bade her goodbye with his hands in his pockets. He may have a lot of brains, but someone had clearly failed to teach him manners.
"Do you want us to walk you home?" He pretended not to notice the look of horror on Daniel's face.
"Don't bother. It's not too far away, and no one's gonna mess with me." She waved at them and walked on, leaving the two men alone.
"Uhh, I hate to say this, but I'm really broke, seeing how I didn't plan for a cross-country trip anyway…so if we get a motel room or something, do you mind paying for me first? I'll pay you back as soon as I can."
The detective let him speak and almost grovel before saying "Actually, I have a place here. You can stay if you like."
When Daniel had said that he had a place here, Rafe was not expecting this. A small flat would have been his first guess, or even a mid-size house on the edge of the city. Instead, he found himself being led up of one the swankier apartments by a primly-uniformed bellboy to the penthouse suite. The friggin' penthouse suite. Perhaps he should take up policing too; it certainly seemed to pay well.
The detective took forever to open the door, not that it was his fault, of course. The door had a numeric lock, which meant that it could only be opened someone who knew the combination; that or brute force, which involved trying every possible combination there was. It was not something he'd put past Hasford. Still, he was willing to bet that no one except for Daniel knew what the combination was; heck, he probably changed it everytime he left the house.
It turned out that the lock had fourteen numbers on it.
The door swung open, and Daniel stepped back to let him in first. The sight that met his eyes was not something that he was expecting. Rafe didn't notice the plush furniture or the yard-long aquarium separating the living room from the kitchen; he was too busy taking in the sight of the whole city that was visible through the glass that formed the fourth wall of the penthouse.
"Thank you."
Rafe turned around to see Daniel standing in the doorway with a smug smile. "Huh?"
"I take your gawking as praise to the absolute awesomeness of my penthouse."
"Take it as whatever you want, man. How the hell does a guy like you get a house like this?"
Daniel shucked off his coat and sunk into an oversized couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table as he did so. "You really want to know?"
"Good God, you didn't kill someone, did ya?"
"Nahh…I wasn't so…so driven back then."He wouldn't have picked "driven" to describe the detective's work ethics himself, but was pleased to note that returning home seemed to have an uplifting effect on his mood.
"Okay, I'll bite. What did you do?"
"I told you I was working on a case involving the mob, right? Well, one day, I go home and I find one of the goons higher up on the food chain waiting for me. He says the usual things; don't wanna mess with the wrong people, you'll beg for death before the end, blah blah blah. At that point, I didn't care one whit about who won, because our client was a total ass himself. I told the guy to stick his threats where the sun doesn't shine and make me an offer instead. He started off with a car and I told him I wanted my own legal firm. We worked our way to a penthouse."
"All that to get you off the case?"
"Of course not. I wasn't even the senior counsel. I threw the case."
"What does that mean?"
"Hmmm…said things which made clear to the other side where the weak points of our case was, didn't really bear down on their weaknesses. Advised the important witnesses against saying too much."
"You purposely lost?"
"Not quite. The judge hated this mob guy. He would have convicted him even if he had a dollar of unaccounted profits. We won."
"And they still gave you the house?"
"Yeah. I managed to convince one of the Supreme Court justices that the judge on this case was biased, which he was, of course. He reviewed the case. I went back and told the partners at my firm that I wanted to join the police and they wrote me this sparkling recommendation letter for promotion and all that. I was gone before they found out about the review."
"I can't imagine the number of enemies you must have. People running around all over the place wishing you dead."
"That's what war's like, no? People running, flying, sailing at each other with the sole purpose of killing the other one. How is that different from what this?"
"Well, it's like something Danny said to me once. The people doing the fighting don't really have anything against each other. We're kinda fighting against each other for ideals we don't completely get. The only reason I'm in this is because the other side is doing things that no person with any sort of moral compass would do. Here, no one is trying to kill American detectives or corrupt legal assistants; they want you dead. You and only you. There's your difference."
"Hmmm…you want a drink? I need a drink?" He returned the favour and pretended not to notice the change of subject.
"No, thanks. I'll turn in now. Where do you want me to sleep?"
"The guest room is over there."
"Thanks." He stood up and walked over to the room, feeling tired despite not having done much over the day except travel.
"Just…don't wander around at night. Hasford's not the only one who sets traps."
He woke up in the middle of the night with his tongue stuck to the back of his throat, belatedly realising that he should have at least drunk a glass of water before going to sleep. Now he was going to have to navigate through a booby-trapped house to get a drink.
Cursing himself, Rafe silently tiptoed out of the guest room, carefully looking for wires or triggers of any sort. For all of his fear, the trip to the kitchen was uneventful and he was walking back to his room when he saw something in the corner of his eye. Quickly ducking behind the wall, he peered at the form.
Standing by the glass wall was Daniel. His forehead was pressed against the glass, but his eyes were open and alert. He was watching the city like some sort of dark knight; looming over its various soulless inhabitants was a saviour just as depraved as them. As he watched the detective watch the city, Rafe was glad that Daniel could not see him. The detective had stripped off his shirt and his bare back was clearly visible, along with the horrendous scar that marred the otherwise perfect skin. A glass of something alcoholic was in his hand, ignored. The lights from the city dimly illuminated his face, and the walls that were up during the day had gone down in this solitude. Rafe could see the turbulence in his eyes and the weariness in his face, all inflicted by the horrors he had inflicted and been inflicted with. It confirmed what he had suspected ever since that night in the motel room; somewhere inside that hardened, callous sociopath was the same sensitive soul Danny had, and it was being tormented by the life he had chosen for himself.
Still, he harboured some hope for Daniel. Despite the fact that he routinely saw the worst of mankind, he was fighting to make things right. With all the knowledge he had of the underworld, he could easily have run some sort of illicit business and be living comfortably at the moment, with all the wealth, luxury and girls he wanted; instead, he was a detective, and on the tail of one of the most evil men out there. Whilst the detective himself did not view this as an act of altruism, he knew that it stemmed from some inner good.
He walked away silently, not wanting to get caught. As he lay in bed, Rafe wondered why he cared so much. His Danny was probably worried sick by now, and given time he'd do something really stupid; something like dropping out of the mission to look for him. Heck, his concentration would be on everything apart from flying the B-25s properly, which was enough to get a person killed. Why then was he contemplating not going back?
Thing was, Danny had survived just fine in his absence. He didn't get killed. He was happy. He had seen the way the rest of the squadron had unquestioningly obeyed his orders that day and noticed the camaraderie that had developed between Danny and Gooz. Danny would be fine. Daniel, on the other hand, was going to get himself killed if he went on like this. As conceited as it sounded, Daniel needed him; someone who wasn't afraid of him enough to knock some sense of right and wrong into his thick head.
That still didn't explain why he felt obligated to stay. It was not his job to help every lost soul out there God knows he had met his fair share of them and until now, he was never compelled to. He knew it came from Daniel's uncanny and downright supernatural resemblance to Danny; it was almost as though they were the same person.
Rolling over, he felt miserably conflicted, and wondered for the first time in a long time why this had all happened. Why did he end up in that motel room? If he could go back to the night before all this, he would never sleep. And he wouldn't have been so dismissive of Danny, now that he knew that it might be the last time he saw him.
He was awakened rudely by Daniel banging on his door. Rafe was about to wear his uniform when he caught a whiff of it and decided that it would alert everyone to his approach from miles away.
"Hey, do you have any clothes I can borrow?"
Daniel poked his head in, looking very annoyed. "Keep going at that pace and you're going to make me late. What do you want to wear?"
"Just a shirt and pants."
He ended up dressed in one of those depressing plain white shirts and black slacks that pinched uncomfortable at the waist. Still, he was glad that he could get into it; there was no way he could fit in one of his friend's unbelievably small-waisted pants. This one clearly worked out a little more and had some form of a six-pack.
They walked downtown, stopping to only to buy coffee from a little stall. He noted unhappily that this seemed to serve as breakfast for the detective and if all of his food came in liquid form.
"Where are we going?"
"Louisa's place. She'll normally have updated herself about the current situation by this time, and I can't wait 'till we get to the station to hear everything. Besides, I'll have to decide what she's allowed to share with everyone else and what she isn't."
"So you'll walk to her place when it benefits you, but not to make sure she gets home safely?"
"Would you have walked Chuck home?"
"No." He knew where this was going.
"She can take better care of herself than him. So if you won't walk him home, why bother with her? Just 'cause she's a girl?"
"You know what, forget I said anything."
They walked down a typical street, where the houses were tall and narrow, and came to a stop in front of one with a pale blue door and flower pots on the window sill. They walked up the stoop and Daniel opened the door without even knocking. He kept quiet, figuring that she was probably used to this kind of treatment anyway.
He stepped in the same time as Daniel and immediately wished that he hadn't. The hallway was covered in blood; the whitewashed walls were smeared with red and even the ceiling sported swathes of blood. Daniel walked in further, following the trail of blood. It led them into the kitchen at the back of the small house.
There were no words with which Rafe could describe how he felt when he realised what happened in that kitchen. He was violently sick in the hallway, even as Daniel walked into the scene of the carnage. Louisa, stripped naked, had been strapped to the table and flayed. Skin floated in blood on the table. Her body had been cut like prime meat; he was sickened to recognise it as the butterfly cut that was so popular at barbecues, and it lay in a pool of blood that was still slowly dripping off the table. Her eyes were wide open, and the expression frozen on her face was one of sheer terror. He hoped that she died quickly, but knew in his heart that she probably did not.
Daniel's face was like stone; ashen but unmoved. He carefully stepped around the puddles of congealed blood on the floor to get closer to the body. Gently, he closed her eyes. Rafe wandered closer, ignoring the spasming of his stomach; as he did so, he noticed the stalk of white rose that was tucked by her body, its petals encrusted with blood. He was reaching out to put a hand on Daniel's shoulder when the detective spoke.
"He was here. Hasford did this himself."
XXXXX
Exams are over!!!!
well, i need some feedback on this chapter. is danny angsty enough for a person in his position? do tell, as the author's muse is holding her hostage and will do very nasty things to her mind if the goods don't roll in.
hope you liked it :)