A/N: First part of a three part chapter. Unless it's a four part chapter. The next part is written and the third part is mostly written.
A/N2: For InSilva who I will never, ever take for granted. And she has been wonderful and helpful and patient as always, and thank you never feels like quite enough. Especially since she's been waiting on this chapter for an awfully long time.
Timeline:
1. 'In the beginning' Parts 1 and 2 (Chapters 13 and 14) Rusty is seven, Danny is nine.
2. 'Neverending Conversation' Parts 1 and 2 (Chapters 15 and 16) Rusty is seven, Danny is nine.
3. 'Matilda and the Werewolf' (Chapter 23) Rusty is nine, Danny is eleven.
4. 'Something more than it should be' (Chapter 10) Rusty is ten, Danny is twelve
5. 'The humiliation of Norris Carrol' (Chapter 20) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
6. 'Four Day Interlude' (Chapter 5) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
7. 'Remember the first time' (Chapter 4) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
8. 'Sunshine, smiles and sweet, sweet words' (Chapter 17) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen.
9. 'Lie, Cheat, Steal, Play' (Chapter 24) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
10. 'View from the outside' (Chapter 12) Rusty is eleven, Danny is fourteen
11. 'When we were young' Part 1, 2, 3 and 4 (Chapter 25-28) Rusty is eleven, Danny is fourteen
12. 'And we won't get it back when we die' (Chapter 29) Rusty is twelve, Danny is fourteen
13. 'Walk before you can crawl' (Chapter 2) Rusty is twelve, Danny is fifteen
14. 'Other Nightmares Parts 1 and 2 (Chapters 8 and 9) Rusty is twelve, Danny is fifteen
15. 'The more things change' (Chapter 1) Rusty is thirteen, Danny is fifteen
16. 'Different Roads' Part 1 (Chapter 31)
17. 'Words and Silence' (Chapter 22) Rusty is thirteen, Danny is sixteen
18. 'Six months of roses' (Chapter 18) Rusty is thirteen/fourteen, Danny is sixteen
19. 'Two stories with some understanding' (Chapter 21) Rusty is thirteen, Danny is sixteen. Falls within time of 'Six months of roses'
20. 'Life Lessons' (Chapter 7) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is sixteen - falls within time of 'Six months of roses'
21. 'The lies we live' (Chapter 3) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is sixteen
22. 'If the fates allow' (Chapter 19) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is seventeen
23. 'This is our decision (to live fast and die young)' (Chapter 6) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is seventeen
24. 'Such a perfect day' (Chapter 11) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is seventeen
And sequels after they move away!
'Adjusting' - two months after they leave town, Rusty is 15, Danny is 17
'Learning Curve' - eighteen months after they leave town, Rusty is 16, Danny is 19
'All in the family' - shortly after 'Learning Curve'
'Outward Ripples' - Rusty is 18, Danny is 20
'Eye for an Eye' - Rusty is 18, Danny is 20
'Chasing Echoes' - set after O11.
The trick, Rusty always told him, was to concentrate on being invisible. To pretend – to believe – that you took up no space, made no impact in the world, that it was impossible for anyone else to see you. It seemed to work for Rusty. Sometimes. Danny had never been too successful at it. Normally he'd focus on being unobjectionable instead. He'd be quietly charming and endearing and likable and people would accept him for what he was, or what he was pretending to be. But that didn't work on Mom and Uncle Harold. So he sat silently (Boys should be seen and not heard.) on the uncomfortable high-backed chair, his feet flat on the ground, his hands on his knees, (Boys should display good posture and decorum at all times.) didn't move a muscle, or yawn, (Boys shouldn't fidget.) and did his best not to look like he was listening to the conversation going on beside him. (Boys shouldn't eavesdrop on their elders and betters.)
They'd finished with him for the moment. Uncle Harold had finished saying his hair was too long; Mom had finished complaining about his lack of accomplishments; they'd both finished bemoaning his lack of manners, polish, finesse, respect, discipline and his general attitude.
He sat still and silent. And concentrated on being invisible.
They were discussing Uncle Harold's latest business dealing and Danny listened with half an ear and wondered whether Rusty had managed to get the timings of the shift changes at the movie theatre last night. They'd seen a collection of old posters thrown haphazardly in a storeroom, and they'd quite fancied getting their hands on them. Mostly because they'd asked and been told that such things were not for the public. Which wasn't fair in the slightest; all they were doing was gathering dust. They could liberate a couple of them easy. Something to display on the wall, and Danny dreamily wondered what they might find. Something Hitchcock, maybe. Or Stanley Kubrick. Maybe even something really old. One of the classics. There's been hundreds of them, all piled up. They were bound to find something good.
Mom was glaring at him and he realised he'd been swinging his feet. Ah, hell. He did his best to look apologetic and sheepish and obedient and, still not looking happy with him, Mom turned back to Uncle Harold.
"Sorry, Harold. You were saying about Christopher Swift?"
"Oh, yes," Uncle Harold nodded. "He's absolutely desperate for this merger to go through. Wants to corner the market, and since Barrow Greener have been showing a twenty-three percent increase, the whole thing is, frankly, irresistable."
Boring and incomprehensible.
Mom pursed her lips and looked intent. "Sounds like a match made in heaven."
"You could put it like that, I suppose," Uncle Harold agreed pedantically. "The point is, the company owns a significant proportion of Barrow Greener shares, and whoever facilitates the deal is going to receive a considerable amount of prestige and even more perks."
"A bonus?" Mom asked.
"Among other things," Uncle Harold nodded. "I heard Ted Danbury over at Beechings got a two hundred thousand dollar villa in the Seychelles last year. Paid for personally by Swift. And Drake Fford's son acquired a full scholarship to St Sebastian's in Lancaster. Sutherland is on the school board."
"Really," Mom said thoughtfully. "Is it a good school?"
Uncle Harold smiled. "Oh, yes. I was looking into it. Full of the right sort. The crème de la crème. Very good academically and socially and stresses the value of discipline. I think it could turn any delinquent into a proper young gentleman. Well," Uncle Harold coughed hastily. "Provided they have the proper breeding, of course. It's just the start in life that Daniel needs."
"What?" he blurted out.
They both looked at him in disapproval. "Daniel!" Mom snapped. "What have I told you about eavesdropping?"
"You must learn to listen to your mother, Daniel," Uncle Harold frowned. "A boy your age should show respect. Filial obedience is one of the qualities that makes a man that other men will take seriously in later life."
"I'm sorry sir, Mom," he said carefully. "But are you really thinking about sending me to school in Pennsylvania?"
"That is not any of your business at the moment, Daniel," Uncle Harold chided him.
He lowered his head slightly. "Yes, sir. But Pensylvania. It's a long way away."
Uncle Harold sighed disparagingly. "It's a boarding school, Daniel. Obviously."
A boarding school. "A boarding school?" His voice trembled slightly. A boarding school. Being away from home for most of the year. Being isolated. Being away...being away from Rusty.
"Daniel Ocean, you will sit still and be quiet," Mom ordered, cross and evidently having lost all patience.
He hung his head. Bit his lip. "Yes, Mom," he said obediently and he sat still and silent as the conversation went on above his head.
As soon as they'd got home, Danny had made an excuse to go upstairs to his room. Not like Mom particularly cared; she had work to do and she was disappointed in him again. Out of sight, out of mind, and in this case, out of the window.
He needed to see Rusty. Just as much as he needed to eat, sleep, breathe, he needed to see Rusty. Not just today, not just right now…how could he live if he had to spend most of the year apart from Rusty? He bit into his lip hard, as he scrambled down the tree. Wasn't going to happen. They weren't going to let it happen. He'd go round to Rusty's and they'd think of something. They'd fix this.
It was late evening when he got to Rusty's apartment building. The sun was low in the sky and he could hear the screaming anger from the moment he stepped inside.
God.
He started running immediately and he couldn't make out the words, not all of them anywhere. Just little fragments of bile and hatred.
"….stupid fucking bastard….ungrateful….useless…..insolent little rat…gonna teach you…."
As he got closer there were other sounds. Muffled thumps. Dull thuds. The sound of flesh striking flesh. No reactions though. No cries of pain.
He hated. He hated so much and the anger was crashing out of him, a helpless spiral of rage, and he flung himself up the last flight of stairs, hammering at the door.
There was stunned silence for a second. Then the door swung open and Rusty was there, glaring at him from beneath the blood, anger aimed exclusively at Danny. "Run!" he said, pushing Danny backwards.
"Come back here, you little shit!" Rusty's Dad roared, and he was there, in the doorway, reaching out towards them, and Rusty was shoving Danny frantically towards the stairs.
The sound of heavy footsteps was thundering right behind them.
"By the time I get through with you, you'll know when to keep your mouth shut!"
He was right there. He was chasing them and he was right there.
If he caught them, it would hurt. And maybe, just maybe, if Danny was quick, punched hard enough, maybe he could keep the fight away from Rusty. He was older now, he was stronger now, he could fight and he could hope.
Rusty's hand was tight on his arm, and on the last landing he pulled Danny towards the railing and they leapt over the last flight of stairs, standing in the entranceway of the building, and Rusty didn't let go of him until they were running down the stoop, dodging across the road, down the street, past a parking lot, behind a wall.
"He's gone," Rusty said abruptly, his voice muffled, and the blood was pouring from between his fingers as he held his hand to his nose. "He doesn't follow this far. Not ever. Isn't worth it."
"Good," Danny said, patting his pockets, looking for some Kleenex or something.
Rusty glared at him, furious. "What the fuck did you think you were doing?"
Nothing useful in his pockets at all. "Tilt your head forwards," Danny said evenly. "Pinch your nose, if you can. We need to stop the bleeding."
Rusty obeyed but he didn't give up. "I told you not to do that. You can't risk it. Didn't you hear – "
" – of course I heard," he said sharply. "I heard and I wanted to make it stop."
"You can't," Rusty said immediately.
And yet they were both here.
"Yeah? You want to think about what would have happened if he hadn't been distracted enough, if I hadn't managed to get away? If he'd been the one to open the door? If he'd pulled you inside and…and…" Rusty broke off, his words choked, his body shaking.
Didn't mean that Danny could leave it. "So it's okay for you and not for me?" he demanded.
"It's not okay!" Rusty said quickly, and he seemed to think he meant it. "But if it's you, it's an adult hitting a kid who's not even his, and no one's gonna stand for that."
And the deeper truth was that Rusty didn't think he could bear to see Danny hurt. There was a little dark part of Danny that actually found it amusing that Rusty could imagine that it hurt any less the other way round.
"I can't let it go, Rus'," he said softly. "I can't just listen and do nothing. Please. Don't make me do that again."
Rusty stared at him, and the anger melted away, replaced with the fear and the concern that Danny knew had been underneath all the time. "I don't want you to risk it!"
Danny sighed. "We need to get you cleaned up. Get the bleeding stopped. Burger place round the corner?"
"Yeah," Rusty agreed, still a little unsteady.
Wasn't far. They walked in silence, Rusty's hand pressed against his face, his head down. Striving for invisibility again. And passersby were few and far between, but they were still staring. Blood drew attention. Didn't mean anyone asked if they were alright.
The gangly teenager behind the counter stared at them when they walked inside. No one they'd seen before, and that was fortunate.
"Can we get some napkins?" Danny asked him, sounding anxious and frantic. "My brother just got knocked down by a bike courier."
"Jeez!" The guy was still staring, but he thrust a handful of napkins towards them. "Do you need me to call 911?"
"No!" Rusty said, maybe a little too fast.
"'s not that bad," Danny said reassuringly. "Any chance we could get some ice though?"
"And a couple of cheeseburgers," Rusty added, a little muffled.
Smiling ever so slightly, Danny passed over a couple of notes. "Fries as well?" he checked with Rusty, and Rusty nodded. "Fries, a banana milkshake and a rootbeer too."
They got settled at the table and Rusty had the wad of napkins pressed to his nose. Danny busied himself with the cup of ice and more napkins. "Here," he said, passing the make-shift icepack over. "Should stop it swelling too much."
Rusty smiled at him and swapped the bloody napkins for the ice. "Ah! Cold," he complained at once, and Danny sighed and slid into the seat next to him, taking the ice out of his hand, holding it to his face.
"Big baby," he teased softly.
"You want me to get frostbite?" Rusty asked, smiling up at him. "I'm very sensitive."
They were sitting close together, and Danny's thumb traced over Rusty's cheek, and for a long time, they said nothing.
Danny studied him surreptitiously, trying to see past the blood, trying to see what else there was. A rapidly darkening bruise at the side of Rusty's mouth. That was about all he could see. "What happened?" he said at last.
An awkward shrug. "He busted my nose," Rusty said simply. "I kind of had it coming though. I said the Giants suck."
"The Giants do suck," Danny said immediately, fighting to keep the lightness going.
Rusty grinned darkly. "Well, let's hope they get better fast. Stupid bastard just bet three months rent on them."
"Fuck," Danny said softly, and he carefully pulled the ice away and inspected Rusty's face solemnly. "Doesn't look that bad," he offered reassuringly. There wasn't much swelling. Danny would guess it would vanish by tomorrow. He still wasn't sure if there was anything else though. Something someplace he couldn't see, and he didn't think Rusty was going to agree to take his shirt off in the middle of the restaurant.
"Nah." Rusty flashed him a smile. "You interrupted before he got too far. He didn't have a chance to get in more than a couple of hits. Just got a few bruises. Nothing to write home about."
Right. He swallowed hard, wishing he'd got there just a few minutes before. And the flip side, the part that Rusty was carefully not talking about, was that the next time Rusty saw his Dad it would be all the worse.
Rusty was looking at him, frowning. "So why did you come round?" Rusty asked. "Not that I'm not…you know I am…." He sighed. "You know better than to come round here."
He took a deep breath and it all came flooding back. God. Come September, maybe there would be no one around to help Rusty when he was hurt. Maybe there'd be no one around to care. And Danny would be hundreds of miles away, not even knowing...He couldn't. He couldn't live like that.
"Danny?" Rusty sounded anxious. "What's going on?"
"Mom and Uncle Harold are talking about sending me away to school," he said in a whisper, sitting up and away from Rusty, staring down at the table.
Danny had stumbled through the story and Rusty had listened with growing horror. He didn't want to lose Danny. Not this soon. He'd thought they had more time together. Just a little more time, and he wanted every second he could get.
Only...only that was selfish, wasn't it?
He should be thinking about what was best for Danny. That's what mattered here. Not his fear of being lonely. Should be all about Danny.
"We need to stop them, Rus'," Danny said at last, and his eyes were fixed on Rusty, wide and beseeching.
Rusty couldn't meet that gaze. He concentrated on his fries instead, swirling them through the ketchup and he couldn't even think about eating them. "Is it a good school?" he asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.
Danny was staring at him. "What does that matter?" he demanded. "Rus', I don't want to lose you!"
"We'd still see each other in the holidays," Rusty pointed out, and he could hardly believe that he'd managed to keep his voice steady. "Wouldn't be like I'd died."
"I don't – " Danny tried again.
" – I just think you need to think about it, Danny," he said immediately, not wanting this to be any harder than it already was. "Don't dismiss it just because – "
" – just because I don't want to?" Danny said, low and furious. "I don't want to go, Rus'. I'm never going to want to go. Even if you want me to ignore the things that really matter to me," he was glaring, and Rusty felt himself flush. "Even without that, I wouldn't want to go. Uncle Harold said that the school is full of the 'right sort'. You honestly want to tell me that you think I'd want to spend my life with the people that Uncle Harold considers the 'right sort'? Do you want that for me?"
No. God, no, and he was imagining Danny surrounded by people like Harold Gately, imagining Danny lonely and isolated and that was never what he wanted for Danny.
"And Uncle Harold said that the school likes discipline," Danny went on relentlessly. "Somehow, I don't think they were talking detentions."
He shuddered, and he could see that too, could see people hurting Danny, people who had authority over Danny, who would order him around and Danny would never stand for that, and they'd punish him, hurt him. "No!" he said, anguished and his hand was gripping Danny's now, somehow, like if he just kept holding on, he could save Danny from all that. "No!"
"I don't want to go, Rusty," Danny said after a second, soft and desperate.
Rusty nodded. "We'll find a way," he promised, and right now he had no idea how.
"I wish Dad was here," Danny said quietly. "He'd never let them do this. Never. He'd stop them, you'd see."
"Of course he would," Rusty said immediately, his voice ringing with sincerity, and Danny flashed him a quick smile. Gratitude for the lie. Danny chose to remember his father as a better man than the one Rusty had known, and he'd never get in the way of that.
"You think if I talked to Mom, told her that I don't want to, you think she'd listen?" Danny asked hesitantly.
Rusty hesitated. "No," he said apologetically. He didn't. Danny's Mom had never listened to him any other time. Somehow, he doubted that this time would be any different.
"Yeah," Danny agreed with a sigh. "Didn't think so." His head dropped forward onto his hands. "Guess all we can do is hope that Uncle Harold's deal doesn't go through."
Leaving things up to chance. Rusty hated the very idea. He wondered if there was some way they could get to the school? Give them the idea that Danny wasn't someone they wanted to take. Trouble was, Danny's grades were, by necessity and invention, excellent, and if they faked up some sort of delinquency, they'd have no way of knowing that it wouldn't come back and haunt the rest of Danny's life.
Danny's head snapped up suddenly, and his eyes were fixed on Rusty's and his mind was a million miles away.
Rusty waited patiently.
"What if..." Danny began, and stopped. He was looking right at Rusty now, hope starting to dawn. "What if we don't leave it up to chance? What if we make sure that Uncle Harold's deal doesn't go through?"
Rusty stared. He had no idea how they'd do that. But that didn't mean they couldn't.
Danny wanted to stay.
Rusty didn't want him to leave.
They could do this. Because they had to.
They'd gone back to Danny's for the night, of course. Not like Danny wanted Rusty to go back home so soon. Not like Danny wanted Rusty to go back home at all, but some things seemed inevitable.
The house had been dark; Mom had either gone out again or was asleep. Which left them scrambling up the tree, falling into Danny's bed, and feeling safe.
Not that they slept well. In fact, at first, Danny didn't think that either of them would sleep at all. This was frightening in a different way than anything else. A nightmare he'd never dreamed.
They talked in soft voices until morning, anything and everything, except the point.
(He would miss this. He would miss this so much.)
They must have fallen asleep at some point though, because he woke up with Rusty in his arms, pulled tight and close to him.
He let go quickly, scrambling backwards, glancing over at the door fearfully. Closed. That was something. No one had come in and seen them. He could imagine the look on his Mom's face, could remember the hatred and disgust in Richard's eyes the other week. He clenched his fists fiercely, ashamed of the doubt, the hesitation. Affection should never be something to be afraid of.
Rusty was awake and watching him and his eyes were shuttered.
Danny swallowed hard. "Sorry," he said, and Rusty nodded, still closed off.
There were noises coming from the kitchen downstairs. Music playing, pots and pans rattling.
"Your Mom's here," Rusty said softly.
Yeah. He stared at the door again. "You need to stay out of sight," he warned darkly.
"So should - " Rusty began.
He shook his head. " – I want to try talking to Mom," he said determinedly. "Make her see things from my point of view."
Rusty's eyes were on his. "I'm not sure this is a good time," he said evenly.
Neither was Danny. Only thing was – "I'm not sure how much time we have," he pointed out. Mom had been spending all her time at Richard's lately. He might not have another opportunity to actually see her. And he wanted to have the conversation. Wanted to at least give her the chance to listen to him.
"Danny," Rusty said, shaking his head, troubled, and Danny could see all the worry in there, all the desperate wishes for Danny not to be hurt.
He smiled with as much reassurance as he could muster. Wasn't as much as it could have been.
"Mom?" he asked quietly, standing in the doorway, and he froze immediately. Richard was there. Fuck, he hadn't considered that Richard might be here. They were sitting at the kitchen table, with a jug of Buck's Fizz and a plate of croissants, smiling at each other and immediately he felt like he was intruding. He supposed he was.
Richard sighed and rolled his eyes. "Christ, what do you want?" he asked, and his tone was verging on rude.
"I just need to have a quick word with my Mom," he said steadily, and he hated the urge to apologise, the urge to back away from Richard. He didn't want to be near Richard. Didn't want to think that Richard was here and Rusty was just upstairs, and he didn't trust Richard to keep things civilized.
Mom was standing right there. He was safe. Richard wouldn't do anything in front of Mom.
"What is it, Daniel?" Mom asked crossly.
"It's private," he explained edgily.
"You in trouble, boy?" Richard sneered. "You and your friend?" The word was dripping with disdain and disgust, and Danny flinched back and he prayed desperately that his Mom didn't pick up on even the slightest hint of the innuendo.
"I'm not in trouble," he said, and his eyes were on Mom alone and she was thin lipped and disapproving, but she didn't seem to have picked up on any deeper meaning to Richard's words. She was content with disappointment and she didn't expect anything more from him. "I need to talk to you."
She sighed, looking more than a little put out. "Very well," she said. "Shall we go through to the study?"
"My son would never think of disturbing me if I had guests," Richard announced to no-one in particular. "He was raised to be polite."
"Yes, well, I'm sure whatever Daniel wants to say is very important," Mom said stiffly, and her eyes said it had better be.
He could feel Richard's eyes on his back as they walked away. Made him want to start running.
He waited until the study door was closed. "Mom, I don't want to go away to private school."
She sighed and sat down at her desk. "I know you don't, Danny." Her voice was gentle and he blinked at the use of his name. "Sometimes we all have to do things we don't want to. I know it seems difficult now, but St Sebastians is the right choice for you in the long run."
"It's not," he argued intently. "I want to stay here. With my friends."
"With Robert," she corrected him sharply.
Even if he could deny it, he wouldn't. "Yes."
"I know this…friendship…seems important now, Daniel, but I promise you, when you get out into the wide world you'll meet new friends and you'll forget all about Robert." Her voice was absolutely sincere. Her words were meant to be comforting.
Danny had to suppress a shudder at the very idea. The stuff of nightmares. Literally. "I don't want to."
"It's for the best," Mom told him. "You need to associate with more suitable people."
"More suitable," he repeated flatly
She didn't look away. Didn't show a hint of embarrassment. "Yes."
The anger and hurt was building up inside. Six years. Six years, and she still thought this. "Funny, somehow, I don't remember you saying anything about how suitable Rusty was last year. In fact, I seem to remember you letting him stay for weeks. Easier than actually taking care of me yourself, right?"
A dozen emotions flickered across her face, and Danny wasn't sure what half of them meant. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was….but he did know better. "I am your mother Daniel – "
" – yes. I know," he interrupted sarcastically.
She ignored him. "I am your mother. And I only want what's best for you. I know what's best for you."
"I know what's best for me," he argued desperately. "Doesn't that count for anything?"
With a sigh, she made a visible attempt to calm herself. "You're a child, Daniel. You don't know anything. St Sebastians could open a lot of doors for you. It could give you the start in life you need. I know you'll miss Robert at first, but you have to understand that friendship is not the most important thing in life."
He wasn't the one who didn't know anything. "There's nothing I can say to convince you, is there?"
She smiled at him, sympathy and triumph all at once. "I know what's best for you, Daniel. You have to trust me. You'll thank me, when you're older."
"Not for this," he told her, and he turned to leave.
"This is going to happen, Daniel, and you'd better get used to it," she called after him. "Harold's deal will go through, and you'll be starting St Sebastians in the fall."
Not in a million years.
Danny's Mom went out with Richard, later that morning, and told Danny not to expect her back for a couple of days.
Wasn't a big problem. In fact, it was even good, in a way. His face was bruised and swollen, and if they went out, he'd get noticed. As it was, he and Danny could just sit around in the living room with ice cream and freshly-delivered pizza, writing down every little detail that Danny could remember about Uncle Harold and the Barrow Greener deal in particular.
It took a while. And he didn't know, at first, what was relevant, didn't know what might be important to save Danny. Stop the deal going through, Danny had said, and they'd never done anything like that before.
"Maybe we don't need to," he said at last, slowly.
Danny looked at him.
"Well, this scholarship…it's not actually part of the deal, is it?" he persisted. "It's something that this Christopher Swift will throw in to sweeten the deal. Like…" He frowned, trying to understand what he was saying. "Like in poker, he's putting it in the pot to encourage your uncle to stay in the game."
Danny nodded his understanding, waiting patiently for Rusty to go on.
"Now, suppose your uncle was thought that someone else at the table might be about to pick up a better hand?" Rusty went on. "He'd want to cut the hand short. Make sure that he didn't lose everything. He wouldn't have time to raise the stakes any, so the school wouldn't be in the pot at all."
Danny had started smiling.
"We'd need to find out – " Rusty began.
" – Lorimer Wick," Danny said immediately, before Rusty had even formed the question. "I've heard Uncle Harold talking about him, seems like they absolutely hate each other. If Uncle Harold thought he was going to get in on the deal – "
" – he'd call the hand immediately," Rusty finished, and they were both smiling now. "You said your uncle takes work home every night to read over?"
"So we need to draft a memo?" Danny said thoughtfully. "Something that can just be dropped in, like it's an accident."
"Need a handwriting sample," Rusty said, frowning. "Paper too, maybe."
Danny pursed his lips. "Easy," he declared, confidently.
Okay, easy might have been a bit of an exaggeration. He'd remembered the office block Uncle Harold worked in, remembered that the last time he'd been in there, he'd noticed that the lock on the entrance from the car park was the same as the one on the front entrance to the school. And they could do that one in their sleep.
Course, he hadn't remembered the night guard. Because he hadn't had the slightest notion that there was one.
They had been creeping along the corridor on the fourth floor, looking for Lorimer Wick's office, flashlights shining on the name plate on each door in turn, when they'd heard footsteps coming along the corridor behind them. Running footsteps.
Without even looking at each other, they turned to the nearest office door and scrambled through it, turning off the flashlights, easing the door shut, standing against the wall, in silence, in the dark.
"Where are you?" a stern voice demanded, and the footsteps were coming along the corridor more slowly now. "I heard someone."
They stayed absolutely still. Rusty's hand was clasped tight in his and they weren't even breathing.
It was a long moment before the guard walked past.
"Last time we were trapped in an office like this it was all night," Danny remarked in a tight whisper.
Rusty grinned. "Last time I was trapped in an office like this I had to jump off the roof."
Yeah. They waited another long few moments and then they were out of the office, running as quietly as they could.
"We need to be quick," Rusty warned, still whispering.
Quick and careful. The guard would still be looking for them. And if they were caught here, it would be even more difficult to explain than being caught at the school. Impossible to write off as just a childish prank.
Nothing pointed to Lorimer Wick's office on this floor. And they didn't see the guard again. They paused at the stairs.
"He'll be upstairs," Danny said in a murmur.
"Two more floors," Rusty remarked.
Yeah. Two more floors and a very good possibility that they were going to run into the guard.
They headed for the third floor first. Hopefully the guard would be on the second floor, and they'd miss him altogether.
The third floor seemed to be larger offices. A boardroom. Some sort of executive suite. For executives, Danny presumed. And none of that seemed to include Lorimer Wick, and when they were getting to the other end of the corridor, where the other set of stairs was, they caught a glimpse of flashlight.
Again, they ducked into the nearest door, and this time they were in a supply closet. They sat on the floor, waiting until the guard had gone past.
"Hey," Rusty said, investigating the contents of the cupboard. "These are some nice pens."
Danny watched, amused, as Rusty pocketed a half dozen pens, a couple of leather notebooks, and a large and impressive looking electronic calculator.
"Finished?" he asked dryly.
Rusty grinned. "Save me buying stuff for school," he explained.
"Right," Danny shook his head. "Ready to try downstairs?"
They crept out cautiously and sprinted down the stairs, not even bothering with their flashlights. Darkness was better than discovery, and as long as they held onto the banister, it was easy enough to find their way.
Second floor, and they were running along the corridor, and now they did need the flashlights, name after name after name and Danny found his Uncle Harold's office, and two doors along there was Lorimer Wick's.
"Hurry," Danny whispered, and the security guard would still be in here, somewhere, would still be looking for them.
Rusty nodded and he was already searching through Wick's desk, seeking out paperwork.
Danny kept watch at the door, and it was barely five minutes before he saw the light from the guards flashlight peeking round the corner.
"I can see you!" the guard called, and Danny knew he was lying.
All the same. "Hurry," he muttered.
"Got it," Rusty called back, and they were running for the door, closing it behind them, sprinting for the stairs, and they were on the ground floor, running through the parking lot before they knew it.
"Now we just need to figure out how to get it to Uncle Harold," Danny commented breathlessly, as they walked away from the office – not running, not drawing attention, working on being invisible – heading for the bus back home.
They were going to need to think carefully about that.
Late at night, and they were curled up in Danny's bed, and Rusty had hesitated for a moment before lying down beside Danny. Just for a moment, because he'd seen Danny's reaction that morning, and he understood, or he thought he understood. But Danny had grabbed his hand, pulled him down beside him.
"This might not work," Danny told him in a whisper, a truth that neither of them wanted to face.
This might not work. Soon – sooner than he could bear – they might both have to learn to live alone.
It had been a long couple of days. He was still hurting.
He held Danny as close as he could and pretended he'd never have to let go.
Danny was doing the exact same thing.
No words. They slept.
Danny walked into Uncle Harold's office wearing a mask of perfect self confidence, ignoring the puzzled looks of all the people he walked past. He had a right to be here. He wasn't doing anything wrong. And he didn't need to be invisible.
If he was being honest, this really didn't seem like the best idea they'd ever had. It relied a little too much on Uncle Harold voluntarily spending time with him. And that had never happened that Danny could remember. Still, they had to drop the memo into Uncle Harold's briefcase, and they couldn't know when Uncle Harold would leave it alone.
The receptionist had responded eagerly to his hopeful smile and his slightly-stammered explanation, and she'd sent him up the stairs to Uncle Harold's office, telling him that Harold would be leaving shortly.
Uncle Harold was standing in the doorway of his office, with another two men that Danny didn't know. He looked surprised to see Danny. Surprised and not altogether happy.
"Daniel? What are you doing here? Does your mother know where you are?"
Now came the speech and he'd tried to think about what a normal kid would say in this situation. A touch of embarrassment at having to ask for help, expectation of being given help, gratitude...
He smiled hopefully. "Uh, she's gone away for a couple of days, sir. And there's no food left in the house and she forgot to leave me any money...I was wondering if you'd mind if I came for dinner? Please?"
It was all true, of course. Except that they still had money from the two women who'd talked all the way through the movie last weekend and they were quite happy buying food for themselves, and Danny would never, ever go to Uncle Harold for help. But it was a good story, and they'd figured that Harold would feel obliged to take him home for the evening, giving him lots of time to plant the memo.
But Uncle Harold was glaring at him and the other two men were looking shocked, and Danny wasn't exactly sure what was going on.
"Very well, Daniel," Uncle Harold said stiffly. "Just wait here while I get my briefcase." He nodded pointedly to the two men. "Samuel. Frederick. I'll see you in the morning."
"She went away and didn't leave you any money?" one of the men asked, his brow creased.
Danny blinked. "Yes, sir," he agreed. It wasn't like it was the first time. And he was fifteen, after all. He smiled easily. "She can be a little absent-minded, from time to time."
The man frowned some more. "So who's looking after – " he began, but Uncle Harold was there, thankfully, and cut him off.
" – my nephew is a fine young man but he's at an age where even young men from the best families are prone to exaggeration and practical jokes," he said, staring the man down.
Danny really wasn't sure what was going on, but a couple of minutes later, Harold was marching him out of the building like he was in disgrace, and the briefcase was in Harold's hand, and then it was in the trunk of the car, and Danny wasn't seeing any opportunities here at all.
Uncle Harold waited until the car door was shut. "Do not talk about your mother like that, Daniel," he snapped. "I've never been so embarrassed in all my life."
Danny stared. What...? "I didn't say anything bad about Mom," he said, entirely at sea. "I just wanted to get some dinner."
There was a pause and Uncle Harold flushed darkly, his hands tight on the steering wheel. "Yes, well," he said, struggling. "You shouldn't...don't do it again."
Don't do what again? "Yes, sir," Danny agreed, because it honestly didn't matter in the slightest. This was all about staying on Uncle Harold's good side, and they'd discussed it and decided that this was the best way to avoid arousing suspicion. An undeniable excuse and not mentioning the school at all.
The drive home was devoid of conversation, except for Uncle Harold making unpleasant comments under his breath about other drivers. Danny said nothing and he held onto the door tightly as Uncle Harold cut off the lady in the red Buick.
As soon as they pulled up in Uncle Harold's drive, Danny was out of the car, and he watched as Uncle Harold pulled the briefcase out of the trunk and marched into the house, not even checking if Danny was following.
Still no opportunity. Maybe when he put the briefcase down?
But he walked straight into the study, and Danny followed just a little way behind, and he was in time to see the safe door swing shut.
Oh.
"A man can't be too careful, Daniel," Uncle Harold told him ponderously, as he turned round. "My clients entrust me with their secrets. I need to keep them safe from thieves. A real man faces up to his responsibilities."
Danny nodded and tried to look impressed.
A safe. The briefcase was only ever in Uncle Harold's hand or in a safe. There was no opportunity here. There was no hope here. They were finished.
Dinner was awkward and near-silent. Rosamund, Uncle Harold's housekeeper, had left a lasagne in the fridge, and there was enough for both of them. At any other time, Danny would have found it delicious; he'd tasted Rosamund's cooking before. Right now, he couldn't taste anything.
"It was nice seeing you, Daniel," Uncle Harold told him carefully, once dinner was eaten, once they'd drank coffee and Uncle Harold had told him how to put the world he didn't care about to rights. "You're beginning to grow into a decent, respectable young man."
"Thank you," Danny said numbly, and he'd come here to commit fraud.
"Here," Uncle Harold added, even more awkwardly, reaching into his wallet and pulling out fifty dollars. "To tide you over until your mother gets back."
Oh. He blinked. That was unexpected. "Uncle Harold, you don't have to," he said insistently, not taking the money. He felt a little guilty. He'd basically conned Uncle Harold into thinking that he needed help, and it wasn't true.
The look of harsh disappointment was very familiar. "Daniel, the correct response is one of gratitude and humility," Uncle Harold snapped.
"Sorry," Danny said immediately. "Thank you."
He took the money. He wasn't exactly sure how he could refuse it without looking suspicious.
It had been a long few hours. And Rusty didn't know exactly what he was worried about, he was just worried. Wasn't like he'd ever spent much time with Danny's Uncle – as soon as there was even a chance that he was going to be around, Danny's Mom was always quick to push Rusty towards the back door, like an embarrassing little secret – but he knew the way Danny always seemed that bit less sure of himself after talking to the man. He didn't have to know to hate.
He didn't feel comfortable waiting for Danny downstairs. Oh, he knew that Danny's Mom wasn't due back yet, but it still felt like an intrusion. Danny's Mom's space, and he knew he wasn't welcome. He waited in Danny's room instead, dealing out hand after hand of cards, and when he got bored of dealing from the bottom of the deck, he tried dealing from the middle. He was sure there'd be a trick he could learn, if only he could figure it out.
It was almost nine when he heard the front door open and he waited, tense and listening, as the footsteps trudged upstairs.
Danny. Definitely Danny. And not Danny enjoying the heady swirl of success.
He opened the door and stared into the defeat in Danny's eyes.
"What..." he started to say, but Danny hardly looked at him, he just walked past him and slumped, face down on the bed. "Danny?"
There was a long pause, and when Danny spoke, his voice was muffled by the pillows. "He keeps the papers in a safe, Rus'. I couldn't get to them. I'm not going to be able to get to them."
A safe. Fuck. They really hadn't planned for that.
"We could – " he suggested.
Danny laughed wildly. " – how?" he demanded. "I have no idea what the combination is, and I seriously doubt he's going to tell me if I just ask."
Rusty bit his lip and carefully lay down on the bed beside Danny, stretching a hand out and resting it on Danny's shoulder. "Hey. 's okay. We'll think of something. We always do, right?"
There was a sound that might have been a muffled sob. "This was what we thought of. This was our wild and impossible scheme. We're finished. Uncle Harold's going to be making his negotiations all next week and by next Friday, I'll be enrolled in St Sebastians."
"Danny..." He hated hearing Danny giving up. It went against everything that should be. "We'll think of something."
"I'll run away," Danny said, sitting up and staring at him wildly.
"No. You won't." Rusty was absolutely unmoveable.
"Rus' – "
" – Danny -"
They stared at each other for a long moment.
"I don't want to go, Rusty," Danny said at last.
Rusty took a deep breath. "Safes can be cracked, right? We've seen it in films."
"We don't know how," Danny pointed out. "Think it takes more than a stethoscope and wishes."
"Right," Rusty agreed, and he really, really wasn't sure about this. This went against all his instincts. "We could ask for help."
Danny blinked. "Who could we..." His eyes widened. "Oh."