Okay, this is a sad one.

I do not own Ocean's 11, or any of the characters within.

TW: Death, blood, suicide, shooting, depression (kind of).

It wasn't even because of a con. Apparently, Danny dressed like a Mr. Sandburg looked a lot like a certain Mr. Amos. And apparently, this Mr. Amos was wanted dead by the Mafia. And apparently, a couple of Mafia were drinking in the same casino bar in Vegas as Danny and Rusty.

Some coincidences.

They spotted Danny as he went up to order the drinks. Of course, they didn't check to see if it was Amos or not. They didn't particularly care. Right when he was sitting down, their guns went off. The bullets sped towards him, and suddenly he was knocked to the ground. There was a figure on top of him. There was a distinctly Rusty-shaped figure on top of him, and blood dripped from several places down onto Danny's chest. Danny swore. He scooped up Rusty, and started sprinting, ignoring the bystanders giving him horrified looks, ignoring the bartenders telling him to come back, ignoring the many people calling 911. Rusty groaned, face pale. Danny remembers telling him to hang on, letting Rusty see all the fear and anger and reassurance in his eyes. He remembers Rusty nodding. He doesn't remember calling Reuben, but he must have, because there was a car waiting for them in an alley a couple of blocks away. It drove them to Reuben's, Rusty sending Danny silent apologies, a sense of defeat in his eyes. Danny wouldn't have it. They had been through worse.

Danny doesn't remember stumbling out of the car, carrying Rusty into the house, setting him on the couch, but he must have, because it was there Danny leaned over Rusty. It was there his tears streamed down over Rusty's face, and it was there Rusty told Danny he loved him. For the last time. Because it was there, Reuben and Danny crouching over the couch, that Rusty took his last breath, looking up at Danny with endless apologies, and no regret. Danny knew that. Rusty would have done the same thing every time. He loved Danny more than life itself. Doesn't mean he wasn't sorry. Danny remembers Rusty's eyes glazing over, remembers his chest ceasing to rise and fall, remembers the fluttering pulse stopping under his fingertips. He doesn't remember much after that.

He knows Reuben guided him to his room, away from the body staining the paisley couch red. He knows Saul arrived soon after that, rushing in, stopping abruptly in the doorframe, sinking to his knees, his whole body shaking. He knows Reuben called Tess, his voice wavering and face wet, telling her to come as soon as possible. He remembers waiting for her, holding Rusty's cold and clammy hand, knowing it wasn't a dream. He'd pinched himself too many times for that. He knows Tess came, first seeing Danny and relief passed over her face, then seeing the tears on Danny's face, the blood covering every surface, the-... Rusty, and bursting into sobs. He knows she ran to him, hugging him tight and whispering soothing nonsense into his ears, rocking him back and forth. He knows she covered Rusty with a sheet, but soon the white fabric was stained red and they left the room. He knows the rest of the Benedict crew came, Linus' face white, Yen muttering rapidly in Cantonese, Frank shaking his head in disbelief, the twins covering each other's eyes. Livingston disappeared into a closet, and the rest of the house could hear him wailing. He knows all of that happened. He remembers very little. He does remember, however, that he was never alone, Tess, Yen, Linus, and Frank taking turns sitting with him. He remembers Linus murmuring something about how he always thought that Rusty was invincible. He stopped after Danny covered his face with his hands, his whole body racked with violent sobs. Linus patted his back awkwardly. He remembers not seeing Livingston that whole week. He remembers hearing him instead. The twins didn't bicker once. They seemed to have realized how lucky they were to have each other, never letting the other out of their sight. He remembers seeing Saul, looking so much older, bags under his puffy eyes. Danny was sure he looked worse. He never let go of his bottle of whiskey, and every time he tried to sleep he woke up screaming, images of the body dancing behind his closed eyelids.

He remembers wanting the world to stop.

He remembers wanting to die.

You selfish bastard, he would think to himself of Rusty, and then remember all the apologies that went unsaid, and he remembers Rusty, again and again and again, alive and laughing, dying and in pain, and he immediately feels bad. I can never stay mad at you, anyway. Could. And then he cries again, Tess hugging him tight, and he wonders what he did to deserve her, to deserve all his friends, and then he thinks of the lifeless body downstairs, and figures that was probably payback for how lucky he is. Was.

He wants the world to stop.

He wants to die.

He can't stop thinking these thoughts, about how peaceful death would be, oblivion and nothingness and he wouldn't have to think about… about … him. He wouldn't have to think about anything. He knows he shouldn't think like this. He knows he shouldn't leave his friends. He can't stop.

It's on the eighth day, long after the body was taken away, that he gets the letter. It's from Terry Benedict. Huh.

He opens it, and if he hadn't already cried all his tears out, the paper would have gotten soaked.

Dear Mr. Ocean,

I am hesitantly offering my condolences. Albeit I did not care for Mr. Ryan or yourself, I understand how much he betokened to you and how you must be devastated. Albeit I myself wanted you two dead, I am still sorry to receive the news that someone beat me to it and that you must carry on without your other half, however genuine that act was.

Sincerely,

Terry Benedict

He doesn't show Tess. He doesn't show Saul. He turns to Linus, holding it out for him to read.

"No." he says, staring at the paper in his hands. Danny bitterly chuckles.

"Not the nicest 'I'm sorry for your loss' card, but, that was surprising."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Hey, Linus?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don't show anyone else."

"Sure."

"It's just…" He feels a pang when he realizes he's expecting Linus to know what he's saying.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. That letter was for you, it's yours to decide what to do with."

"Thanks, Linus."

"No problem." Linus looks confused.

"No, thanks for everything." Linus nods.

"No problem." He repeats. Danny feels bad. He shouldn't make Linus go through this. Not when it's for nothing. He should just disappear and do it alone, have no one know how he let them down. Danny thinks about it, and decides that would be worse. He tries not to think about what Rusty would say. He tries not to think about how Rusty died to keep him alive, and now he's just going to throw that all away. Rusty would have died for nothing. He tries not to think about that. He fails.

Danny sits in the bathroom. The door is locked behind him. He is leaning against the side of the claw-foot tub. There is a different letter addressed to each one of his friends, and he has arranged them around the spot where he's sitting. Yen's says how funny Danny knows he is, and how Danny could always talk to him if he needed to. Reuben's is a big thank you, telling him how much Danny appreciated him. Linus' tells him about how Danny sees all his potential, and how even though they messed with him sometimes, they cared about him. It thanks him for being a great friend and helping him in the days after Rusty's death. Saul's… it chokes Danny up to write. He can't imagine how Saul will feel. Scratch that, he can. He knows Saul will feel terribly, like he wasn't enough to keep Danny alive. He knows Saul will have lost both his sons in two weeks. He feels so guilty. He is the reason. He tries to write one for Tess, but he knows there is nothing he can say. He just hopes she understands. Deep down he knows she never will. She never had a relationship like theirs.

In all of them Danny apologizes, over and over again. It will never be enough. He even writes one to Rusty. He knows it's foolish. He can't help himself. It is the first time in twenty years Danny has said or written full sentences to Rusty. He thought he had no more tears. He was wrong. Danny tells Rusty that he is so sorry he is throwing away the life Rusty gave him. The life Rusty died to give him. But, he loves Rusty more than life itself. He tells Rusty that. He cries. He picks up the gun he has laid beside him. He eats a cookie. He does not know why, except maybe to honor Rusty. He can't taste it. He rests the barrel of the gun against the side of his head. It is cool and soothing on his temple. It feels nice to be in control. He cocks the gun, his finger tracing lightly and then tightening on the trigger. Rusty. I'll see you on the other side.

Okay, okay, I know that was evil of me, sorry not sorry. Thank you to anyone and everyone who read this, it still blows my mind. This is my first fic, so it means a lot. Even more thanks to my best friend, who even though she's never seen Ocean's 11 (I know, it's a travesty, I'm working on it) still read this and proceeded to compliment me on my mediocre writing. Thanks a lot.