Act Two, Scene Five

Lula jogged down the stairs two at a time, feeling much lighter.

She was surprised that Danny had told her so much so soon, but then again, looking back on their conversation, he had really only given her the broad strokes. She could fill in some of the lines based on what he said, how he acted, and how her own past seemed to mirror parts of his, but other than that…

Oh, what the hell.

Progress was progress, and Danny could be as vague as he liked as long as he continued to still tell her something.

The others immediately looked up as she entered the kitchen, and she couldn't help but give them a triumphant grin as she held up the empty pizza box.

"One fully-fed brat later".

"Brat?" Jack asked, confused.

Lula nodded as she started to clear up the pizza boxes, putting the leftovers in the fridge and the rest in the trash can.

"Oh yeah. If you guys thought he was sarcastic before… J. Daniel Atlas the showman, is one thing. Danny, on the other hand…"

She paused as she washed her hands in the sink.

"Let's just say, mouthy little brat doesn't even begin to cover it. You're gonna have your work cut out for you, Agent Rhodes".

"Good thing he likes them smart" Merritt teased, and Dylan pulled out his phone threateningly, "FBI. Speed dial".

He ignored the mentalist's laughter and turned back to Lula.

"He's eaten, then?"

"Pretty much the entire pizza" she agreed, "Bad news is, he doesn't like pineapple. Good news is, that means more pineapple for you".

"I- What?"

"Don't worry about it".

Jack still looked tense.

"Was he… okay?"

Lula immediately softened at her boyfriend's obvious concern.

"Yeah, Jack, he was… well, not okay, obviously, but he was a hell of a lot better than I was expecting him to be" she explained, "We also, uh… talked".

Merritt's laughter abruptly cut off.

"Oh. Did anyone else get a sense of foreboding when she said that?"

She swatted him on the arm before leaning her elbows on the kitchen island where the other two still sat.

"I'm not going to tell you guys everything, because quite frankly, I'm surprised he trusted me with some of this information and I don't want to betray him like that. So you can't ask about some things, alright?"

She got three reluctant nods in response.

"Good. Okay. Wow. Where do I even start?"

Merritt opened his mouth and she immediately slapped a hand over it.

"If you say 'at the very beginning' I will kick you out and you won't hear any of this!"

He paused, then meekly nodded, and she let go.

"Alright. Well. First of all, your earlier assumption about his parents?" Lula started, pointing at Dylan, "Not entirely wrong".

"Fuck".

"He was put in the system when he was seven after a teacher noticed a few things, and that's where he stayed until he ran away".

"When?" Dylan asked immediately, but she shook her head, "I don't know, he didn't say how old he was. But considering he left secretly and not, exactly, legally…"

"He was still underaged" he realised with a growing sense of horror, "Danny lived on the streets before he was even eighteen".

Lula gave a solemn shrug, "That was my understanding of it too. I don't know what foster care was like for him, if he actually was fostered and, if so, how they treated him, but… well, the system's rarely kind to anyone, and the fact that he did run away-"

"-means it especially wasn't kind to him" Merritt finished quietly, "Christ".


Jack was remaining suspiciously silent, and Lula gently nudged his shoulder with her own.

"You okay?"

He glanced up, looked at everyone individually, and then swallowed thickly.

"I, uh… I spent a few weeks. On the streets. Just before the Horsemen. It… It wasn't a fun time. But for- for Danny-"

"Hey, it's alright" Lula soothed, wrapping her arms around him from behind, "He's safe now. Both of you are. And besides, we don't know he was homeless for certain. Maybe- Maybe he had a- a friend or- or a relative that he stayed with".

Her voice sounded flat to her own ears, and she doubted that they bought the excuse for even a second.

"Lula's right" Dylan added softly, his eyes strangely sad all of a sudden, "You're both here, you're both safe, and… and Danny will be back to normal in no time".

"Whatever Danny's version of normal is" Merritt forced a smirk, "A mouthy little brat, huh? Maybe you won't be the baby of the group anymore, Jack".

He gave a faint smile and Lula squeezed him tighter, secretly giving the other two a grateful look. Her boyfriend relaxed slightly in her arms, still tense, still worried, but no longer on edge.

"I want to talk to him. I- I need to talk to him".

"And you can" she replied simply, "Just give him a few hours to sleep first, alright? He was wide awake when I went up, I don't think he's slept since Dylan left".

Jack nodded, mollified, and Lula turned to Merritt with a much sterner look.

"And don't think you're getting out of it, either, mister!"

"Getting out of what? I'm not trying to get out of anything".

"Talking to him" she said sharply, "You are going to talk and apologise and- and talk to Danny even if it kills you!"

"... Well, you know, with us both being alpha males, it might actually-"

"Merritt? If you don't talk to Danny, then I will kill you. And none of your alpha male bullshit will be able to save you then. Understood?"

"... Understood".

Lula nodded once and then turned to Dylan only for him to quickly raise two placating hands in the air with a look of somewhat resigned chagrin.

"I know I have to talk to him, too, and I- I will, I promise I will, I just- just have to- to figure out what, exactly, I'm even going to- to say but- but I will! I will talk to him! Definitely! I will! No need for threats, I- I am one-hundred-percent going to talk to Danny, I swear!"

She hummed.

"Good to know, but actually I was just going to ask if you're still going shopping later".

Silence.

Jack burst out laughing.

Dylan flushed, but let out a relieved sigh all the same.

"Yes. Yes, Lula, I am, in fact, still going shopping later. And, speaking of, is there anything you guys need?"

"Coffee" Merritt immediately replied.

"Already on the list".

"Mmm… Doritos?"

"I didn't know Doritos were a need, Jack, but okay then. Lula?"

"Nope. I'm good".

He gave her a rather pointed look.

"You sure you don't need anything?"

"You ask the guys that?" she teased, and his mouth spread into a smile, "No. But this time, it's warranted".

"Nah, I'm good" she replied, straightening up and reaching for the coffee pot, "Got another week or two before Tom arrives, at least".

He frowned, also standing, "... Tom?"

"T-O-M" she sounded out, "Time Of Month. Tom's a right bastard. Nobody likes Tom".

"... Right" he eventually said, "You sure?"

"Will you be going again next week?"

"Probably".

"Then yeah. I'm sure" she finished, pouring herself another cup of coffee, "There's a few things Danny might need though if he's still awake".

He tapped the door frame as he passed.

"Alright then. I'll check in on Danny before I go, and… hopefully, see you guys soon. If I'm not back by this evening, sound the alarm, and Li will sort you out".

"Sure. And don't forget the coffee!"


Silently pushing open the door, Dylan was simultaneously relieved and disappointed to find that the boy in question had, in fact, gone back to sleep.

Danny had also turned onto his stomach at some point, which had to be wreaking havoc on his ribs, but both arms were tucked beneath the pillow and his face was buried, so he couldn't see his expression to know for sure. He'd kicked off some of the sheets during his sleep too, and Dylan-

Well.

Dylan couldn't help but stare.

He hadn't paid much attention to the kid's back while stitching him up, because, without an exit wound, he hadn't needed to, but now…

Now, however, he had a full view of the pale stretch of skin marred by the occasional bruise or scrape. A long column of neck that Dylan just ached to claim as his led down to strong shoulders, the boy's lean body betraying their strength. His spine curved enticingly past slender muscles and carved tendons to dip dangerously low beneath the bedsheets, only sharp angular hip bones remaining visible above it.

Dylan swallowed audibly and looked away.

Just what the hell had he gotten himself into?!

Turning his gaze back to the sleeping magician, he glanced over the wiry body once more, this time focusing on the amount of bruises and cuts littering the pale skin and-

Dylan frowned, and then, before he even knew what he was doing, he had made his way across the room to examine one jagged scar in particular that had caught his attention only-

It wasn't just one scar.

There were… dozens.

Danny had pale silvery lines crisscrossing his entire back, starting at his shoulders and disappearing beneath the bedsheets. There were other scars too, smaller and shallower, but these lines were clearly deep enough to last a lifetime.

Dylan cautiously reached out and lightly traced a finger over the deepest mark, a good twenty-odd inches in length and half an inch wide. They were old, very old but Danny himself wasn't that old, and definitely not old enough to have scars like this.

Was anyone ever old enough to have scars like this?

Being in the FBI meant that he had occasionally dealt with some really bad cases, and Dylan had arrested more than a few psychopaths in his time. One particular case involved the systematic abuse of a young girl by her politician father over a number of years. Eventually, a teacher at the girl's school had found out, the cops were called in, it got shoved higher and higher up the chain of command once they realised they had a state senator to arrest and it had eventually landed on Dylan's desk.

They'd had to photograph the girl, no more than twelve or thirteen years old at the time, for evidence, and… and the results hadn't been pretty.

The decade-old wounds crisscrossing Danny's back were horrifyingly similar.


The boy started to shift and mumble in his sleep and Dylan quickly backtracked to the door, taking a second to compose himself before knocking on the wooden frame as if he'd just arrived.

Danny lifted his head, frowned, and then rolled over to face him with a petulant scowl. In any other scenario, Dylan would have laughed at that face, the childish pout and narrowed eyes, but now all he could think of was how many times he must have given the same distrustful look to his mother, father, sibling, priest, neighbour, teacher-

The list of suspects was endless.

"... I'm going out for a while. Food. Clothes. That sort of thing. You need anything?"

A healthy dose of therapy, perhaps?

"... No" Danny replied slowly, "Why're you lookin' at me like that?"

His heart started to beat faster.

"Like what?"

"Like-"

Danny cut himself off, frowned once more, and then face-planted into his pillow.

"N'v'rm'nd. 'ave fun. 'M gon'a s'eep".

Dylan smiled, softly, and then shut the door behind him, his heart still racing.

Lula said that his parents had abused him until he was seven, and based on those scars, the timeline fit. But some of those marks were far newer than fifteen years old, and Dylan…

Dylan wasn't sure what to do with that information.