Act Two, Scene Four
"And the first thing we need to address is our treatment of Danny".
They all stared at her.
Merritt gave a quick glance to Jack and Dylan and decided that he should probably speak up if they weren't going to do so themselves.
"What, exactly, do you mean by our treatment of him?"
Lula's gaze sharpened and her playful smile dropped.
"Look, I might not have been here for very long, but even I can tell that the kid's fucked up. And you guys? You're not helping".
"Danny's a big boy" Merritt protested, "He can stand up for himself".
"A big boy? He's younger than I am".
"He's- what? No! No, he's… he's…"
"He's…?" she prompted, but the mentalist frowned and glanced over at Jack who shrugged and shook his head.
"Are you kidding me?!" she exclaimed, "You've known this guy for, what? Three, four years now? And you've never asked him how old he is? Or- Or when his birthday is?"
They at least had the decency to look ashamed.
"Merritt's the oldest. Obviously. Then comes Dylan, who's… what? Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?"
The man reluctantly nodded.
"Right. Then there's me, twenty-four, by the way, hello" Lula wiggled her fingers, "And Jack's only twenty-one, I'm a cougar, I know, and Danny is…?"
"... Early thirties?" Merritt guessed.
"No! I literally just told you that he's younger than me! Guys, this shit's online, do you just never research who you're working with?"
"Well, in our defence, it has been a few years, so… you know. We never really… had to?"
She stared at them.
"He's twenty-three".
"What? No! But he's- he's a grandpa!"
"No, you're a grandpa" she corrected, "He's just been through some shit".
"... Twenty-three?" Jack asked faintly, "Seriously?"
"Seriously. I wasn't lying when I said I knew everything about you guys back when we first met. In the… least… creepiest way… possible, of course".
"Of course" Merritt agreed, "But… twenty-three? Christ, I mean I knew he was young but…"
"But not that young" Jack finished numbly.
Lula shrugged, "I mean, it makes sense when you think about it. Jack acts younger than he really is but Danny acts older, which makes them seem years apart. Henley's eight years older than him too, and since those two had the whole are-they-aren't-they-together thing, that doesn't exactly help when it comes to guessing his age".
"But twenty-three?!"
"Ask him if you don't believe me!"
Merritt stared at her, turned to Jack, blinked, and then finally looked over at their leader who was- Yep.
"You knew".
It wasn't a question but Dylan gave a somewhat sheepish nod anyway.
"The Eye gave me your files when I first started tracking you down. I didn't read all of them, of course, you guys still deserve privacy and, well, it should be up to you if you want to talk about your past or not, but... but I still skimmed over the most important parts. Allergies, medical conditions, dependencies and… and date of birth. So yeah. I knew".
Merritt continued to stare at him.
"... Now who's the cougar".
Lula snorted and promptly choked on her coffee which led to Jack snickering which led to the mentalist grinning which finally eventually led to Dylan giving a reluctant smirk.
"Actually, Merritt" Lula began once she regained control of her breathing, "I believe the correct term is 'manther'".
"Manther?"
"Male panther" she shrugged, "Or, you know, we could always resort to Buffy again".
Merritt's grin only widened.
"Never thought I'd see the day when Atlas would be someone's boytoy".
"McKinney, I swear to god, I've got the FBI on speed dial" Dylan snapped.
He held up both hands in defence.
"Hey, just teasing you, boss. No harm, no foul and all that. As long as everyone's a consenting adult…"
"Yeah" Jack snorted, "Barely".
"Oh, like you're one to talk!"
"Guys!" Lula interrupted loudly, "I know you're upset about being the fifth wheel here Merritt, but we have to get back on topic. The point is, Danny's fifty shades of fucked up, and we need to stop contributing to that".
"How?" Merritt asked, exasperated, "What have I ever done?"
They all stared at him.
He reluctantly ducked his head.
"Okay, yeah, fair enough, but I'm only ever joking!"
"Does Danny know that?" she shot back, "Something tells me he doesn't have many friends outside the Horsemen, if he ever even did to begin with. Didn't it ever occur to you that he might never have been teased before?"
"How could he never have been teased-"
"Because he's Danny!" she snapped, "You said it yourself. You guys know nothing about his past. He never talks about his family. And-"
Jack cautiously put his hand on top of hers.
"And…?"
She shared a look with Dylan, who looked equally shaken up, before lowering her voice and continuing.
"... And he has scars. A lot of scars, so many that-" she took a deep breath, "Look. All I'm saying is that it doesn't take a genius to work out he hasn't had the best life up till now. So some of the things that we all take for granted…"
"He might not" Dylan finished quietly, "He doesn't realise that you're joking, Merritt, because no one's ever joked with him before. But it's not just you, we've all…"
"Been asses?" Jack helpfully finished, mulishly staring into his cup of long-cold coffee.
Rhodes gave him a small smile.
"Yeah. Pretty much. We just… We just need to be a bit more careful about what we say. I don't think he was kidding when he said he was surprised we pulled him from that harbor. He doesn't trust us because… well, quite frankly because we haven't given him a lot of reason to".
Merritt looked pained and Jack seemed vaguely ill. Lula glanced between them before giving Dylan a grateful nod. They'd gotten the message across. Now it was time to act on it.
Heading for the stack of boxes on the kitchen counter, she pulled out a mostly full one, took a bite from a slice of pizza inside and deemed it edible.
"I'm gonna bring him some food" she announced, "I know you said he's gone back to sleep Dylan, but he should probably have something as soon as he wakes".
He nodded in agreement, and she brushed past the quiet duo sitting at the kitchen island before making her way upstairs.
Lula cautiously pushed open the door to Danny's room, surprised to find him still awake and staring at the ceiling.
"Hey" she said quietly, stepping into and closing the door behind her, "I thought you were meant to be asleep".
"And you came to visit me anyway?"
His voice was rough from disuse and… other things.
"I'm touched".
"Yeah, well, this pizza ain't gonna eat itself".
She sat down on the pillow that Dylan had left next to the bed and flipped open the lid of the box, taking out her own partially eaten slice before passing the rest to Danny.
He picked up a piece and grimaced.
"Cold?"
Lula smirked, "Well, we've got a microwave. I can reheat it for you if you want".
His nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Ew. No thanks. The only thing worse than cold pizza is reheated pizza".
She pretended not to see the visible shaking in his hands as he started to eat.
For a few minutes, there was silence, Danny obviously more hungry than he realised as he ate his way through two and half slices before she had even finished her first. Once Lula was done, she licked her fingers clean, and then looked over at him. Her position on the floor and his on the bed made them more-or-less eye level, and she watched in amusement as his eyes narrowed at the pizza in his hands before trembling fingers started to pull off the pieces of pineapple from it.
It seemed like it was only her and Dylan that liked fruity pizza then, while both Jack and Danny hated it. Which, in a weird way, kind of made sense. Opposites attract, and all that. And besides, she mused, is it really true love unless your partner is willing to eat the pineapple off your pizza for you?
Danny felt Lula staring at him and glanced over.
"What?"
"Nothing" she replied innocently, "So, how's it hanging, kid?"
"Don't call me kid".
"Okay, dude".
He gave her a dry look, and she grinned in response.
There was something… different about him, she realised. Asides from the obvious cuts and bruises and oh yeah, actual bullet wound of course. Something… more exhausted, perhaps? Less… fake. Something more… honest.
Lula wondered if this was how Danny really was, too tired and in pain to put up his usual mask.
"You know, you're not really like how you are on stage at all" she said suddenly, and he snorted. Immediately, a hand jerked to his side with a grimace and she belatedly remembered that he had a handful of bruised ribs.
She winced, "Sorry".
He took a steadying breath and then slowly released it.
"It's fine. Not your fault".
"... But I was right, though, wasn't I?" she pressed, "That whole sauve-charismatic-stage-J-Daniel-Atlas persona… that's not you, is it?"
"What gave it away?" He asked sardonically, "Three days of no sleep? A week without food? Or maybe, even, the absolute lack of fucks I gave when there was a bullet in my shoulder".
Lula stared at him, with awe and delight and just a touch of fear in her heart.
"... Huh. So, really, you're just a sarcastic little brat, aren't you?"
He paused, and then slowly turned to face her.
"Excuse me?!"
"You're excused" she replied flippantly, reaching up to steal the pile of pineapple pieces he'd made on the lid of the pizza box, "Have the others even ever met the real Danny?"
He gave a wry smirk.
"Real-Danny isn't as fun as show-Danny".
"Maybe not, but at least he's honest".
He blinked, opened his mouth to reply, and then shut it again, grabbing another slice of pizza instead.
"For what it's worth?" she added, popping a piece of pineapple into her mouth, "I think real-Danny and I are going to be great friends".
Ten minutes later, the last of the pizza was gone, and Danny carefully lent back against the pillows with a content sigh. Lula grabbed the empty box from his lap and tossed it over by the door to be dealt with later. She then promptly climbed up on the bed and sat cross-legged facing him.
Danny blinked.
"Can I help you?"
"Probably" she replied, "I'm guessing the whole control freak thing isn't fake".
"Wow, you just jump straight into it, don't you?"
"Someone has to. So. Let me guess… Lack of control as a child led to a compulsive need for it as an adult?"
He gave her a strange look, "Why do you sound like a psychiatrist?"
She carefully stored away the fact that he knew what a psychiatrist sounded like for later.
"Dude. I told you I saw my mom knife my dad in the neck as a kid. I had a fuck ton of issues after that".
"Which, what, led to you having an interest in therapy?"
"Which led me straight to therapy" Lula corrected, "I spent years going to a psychiatrist, and I still have his number too, for when I have especially bad days. It's gotten a lot better since joining the Horsemen, though".
She shrugged like she hadn't just dropped that emotional bombshell on him, and continued.
"So, let's see, lack of control when you were younger means you crave for control now, which means… What? OCD? Anxiety?"
His fingers twitched and she smirked knowingly.
"Both?"
Danny scowled at her, "Have you been getting lessons from Merritt or something?"
"I don't need to be a mentalist to figure out that you're fucked up, kid".
"Don't call me kid".
"Why? Cause you were fucked up as a kid?"
He gave her another look, but this one was tinged with just the slightest hint of panic. Lula's smirk slowly fell and she carefully shuffled forwards, mindful of his injuries as she took both of his hands in hers.
Time to get this over with then.
"I helped Dylan fix you up after…" she made a random noise that perfectly summed up the entire Macau disaster, "And while he was stitching up your shoulder, I tried to get the South China Sea out of your hair. For that, we had to lean you forwards a bit".
She can see the exact moment it clicked.
His eyes widened, his jaw slackened, and the trembling in both of his hands got worse.
"Dylan didn't see them" Lula continued quietly, "He was kind of trying not to look at anything. Something about privacy and decency and all of that boring stuff".
"But you… stared?"
"Hey, you might not be my type, but I can appreciate what's in front of me. From a purely aesthetic point of view, of course".
"Of course" he replied dryly.
"Anyway, the point is, you've got quite the pretty patchwork on your back".
"Maybe I'm a masochist".
"Now that, I don't doubt" she replied evenly, "But if those scars were there out of choice, then you wouldn't have tensed up when I mentioned them a minute ago. You don't want to talk about it, ergo, Latin, shit childhood… So, come on, what happened?"
"I barely know you and you want me to talk about my tragic backstory?"
"So it is tragic? Interesting".
"It's kind of personal. No offence".
"I'll tell you about my parents if you tell me about yours".
"Meet the parents, huh? I didn't think we were quite there yet".
"Dude. I washed your hair while you were naked, unconscious and bloody in a bathtub… We're there".
Danny stared at her for a moment, clearly weighing up the pros and cons and figuring out just how annoying she'd be if he remained silent. He quickly came to the conclusion that a stubborn irritating twenty-something-year-old following him around everywhere wasn't worth it. Not for the little amount of information that he had, anyway.
"I never knew my parents".
She blinked, surprised.
"I mean, yeah, I… I lived with them for a while, but I never really knew them… I was pretty young when I got out and I very actively repressed as many memories as I could".
"Sounds healthy".
"For a seven year old, it was".
"So, what, a concerned neighbour?"
"Teacher" he corrected, "Apparently I, uh, didn't mix well with others. He asked me a couple of questions, a few things came out, and voila! Social services got involved".
"Foster care?"
"For a while" he admitted and she winced in sympathy, "Ouch. Yeah, that was not fun".
He gave her a questioning look and she raised a brow.
"Hey, I told you what my mother did. You think the government's gonna let a kid stay in that household?"
"They put you in the system?
"Yup" she popped the 'p', "For a few months anyway, until my parents went to therapy and the state believed that they could be trusted with a child again… I'm guessing you never went back?"
He snorted, "Are you kidding me? After what my father did? Not a chance… No, I, uh… I drifted, a bit… a lot, actually. As soon as I saw an opening, I left".
"Ran away to become a solo act, huh?" Lula smirked, "You know, most kids would just settle for the circus".
"I cut out the middle man".
"And now you're a Horseman" she teased, "The big bad magician is part of a team".
"Funny how life works out, isn't it?"
Lula grinned before giving his hands one last pat and standing up.
"Well, colour me impressed. The great J. Daniel Atlas a self-sufficient orphan".
"Does that mean you'll stop bothering me now?"
"Not on your life" she shot back immediately, "But I'll admit that my… curiosity has been sated. For now".
"Quid pro quo" he replied, "Anything you ask me, I get to ask you".
"Deal".
She held out a hand in mock seriousness, before jumping forwards at the last second to ruffle his hair instead. Danny immediately started to protest and swatted her away. Lula merely laughed.
"Right, well, I best get back downstairs before Dylan arrests me for not letting you sleep" she gave him a pointed look, "Stay".
"I'm not a dog!"
"Hmm, no" she considered, "You're more like a cat. All angry bristles and that whole 'stay away from me' vibe but then, once I pet you, you turn into an affectionate little hug monster".
"I do not-"
She petted his head and he immediately leant into the touch.
Three… Two… One...
A split second later, he yanked himself back with a glare.
"Aw, is the kitty angry?"
"The kitty will pull out some claws if you're not careful!"
Lula laughed and headed for the door, grabbing the empty pizza box along the way.
"Yeah right! You're really just a big softie. Meow if you need anything!"