Ha! This took a while. I'm useless in a variety of ways.

Thanks go to InSilva for many, many things, including the suggesting of a name that wasn't Rosetta Stone.

Danny was unconscious. Walt had given him a shot of something and Danny had gone from his already-drugged state of relaxed and pain-free to flat-out unconscious and now Rusty had helped Walt disinfect everything in sight and his hands and arms felt scoured and he was standing next to a tray of sharp instruments and he was sure he'd never felt this uncertain in his life, and he hated it so much.

Walt must have caught sight of him. Must have seen something. "Look, kid. I wasn't joking before. This is straightforward. We're strictly playing the minor leagues here. Little League, you might say. I've done this a thousand times before."

"We haven't," Rusty said quietly, his eyes fixed on the slackness of Danny's face.

"Well, I'd certainly hope not," Walt muttered dryly, and there was something in his voice that made Rusty frown. "Okay. Let's get started."

He didn't let himself forget what he was doing. Even though it would have been so much easier. Even though he could have just lost himself in learning something new and useful; especially with Walt carefully explaining what he was doing every step of the way. But he'd never forget that Walt was cutting into Danny. Was operating on Danny. Was fixing Danny because Rusty had let him get shot.

And every cut and every stitch was torture.

"You ever thought about being a doctor?" Walt asked, after the second time that Rusty was already handing him the right instrument before he asked for it. "Good career if you've got the smarts and you're willing to work hard."

He wasn't. Not for that. "I got a career."

"Uh huh," Walt shook his head to himself. Rusty kept his mouth shut.

The bullet landed on the tray with a dull clink. "There we go!" Walt said cheerfully.

"That's it?" Rusty asked incredulously. It was so small. A little lump of metal.

Walt stared at it too, his eyes distant. "38 calibre. Much larger and your buddy might be short a leg." Rusty could feel the blood draining from his face. Could feel the shaking starting deep inside him. Walt looked at him anxiously and swore. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine." Rusty said quickly, forcing himself back under control. It was fine, that was the point. Just because it could have been different. If Mackenzie owned a different type of gun. If Mackenzie could shoot straight. The worst hadn't happened and he wasn't going to make a fool of himself over might-have-beens.

Walt sighed. "Yeah. Right."

Rusty looked up sharply. Again, there was something in his voice. "Do we have a problem?"

Walt kept stitching. "Well, let's see now. Your buddy's been shot. That's a problem. You're scared to death and too good at hiding it. That's a problem. Korea was thirty years ago and I'm back digging bullets out of babies. That's a problem."

"We're not – " he began to argue.

"Put your finger there, will you?" Walt interrupted and Rusty quickly did as he was told. Walt sighed. "I'm going to talk to Saul. This isn't right. This isn't a children's game."

"We're not children," he said sharply. "Look, like it or not, right or wrong, me and Danny made our choices. This is what we're good at. This is who we are. We know what we're doing and we're where we want to be."

"Even now?" Walt asked intently.

He stared down at Danny. And he thought about the difference between having nothing to lose and playing like you had nothing to lose and he thought about selfishness and he thought about the alternatives. ". . . yes," he said quietly.

He met Walt's eyes and Walt smiled wearily. "You can move your finger now, kid."

The doorbell rang, loud and obnoxious, breaking the moment of understanding.

"I'm almost finished here. Just fixing this dressing. You can go answer it." Walt nodded towards the door.

Rusty hesitated. It was still dark outside. "We're not expecting anyone," he said, carefully.

Walt looked up sharply. "Police?"

He shrugged. It was possible. Despite everything that logic told him, it was possible. "There's a window if you – "

" – At my age?" Walt snorted. "I'll take my chances."

Rusty smiled. "I'll get the door." He walked and thought quickly. If it was the police, best thing might be to barge past them. Make them chase him. Lead them away from the apartment and away from Danny. If he was good and if he was quick and if he was loud enough and distracting enough when they did finally catch him, he might be able to make sure he was the only one taken.

He opened the door a fraction and was confronted with a smiling woman he'd swear he'd never seen before. Not a cop either. He'd put money on it. She squinted at him through the gap. "Oh, you're cute," she announced, decisively. "I must have the right house."

Well. That was just . . . actually he had no idea what that was. He smiled the smile that made Chrissie blush. "Well, you're beautiful, and at any other time I'd be only too happy to agree you had the right house. But I'm afraid right now – "

" – Walt here?" she interrupted and he shrugged and stood back and let her in. "Thanks."

He closed the door behind her and gave a questioning look. "Molly Caldwell. I've heard a lot about you, Rusty."

Molly Caldwell. Bobby's Molly. Oh. "It's all lies," he answered immediately.

She grinned. "Oh, I doubt that."

"Not to sound rude, but what are you doing here?" he asked politely.

Her expression immediately turned serious. "How is he doing?"

He kept all the agony off his face. "Walt says he's going to be fine."

"Good." She didn't even know them and yet he'd swear her relief was genuine and heartfelt. "I'm in town seeing my folks while Bobby's away. Got a phone call asking me to get over here and check on you. Since Saul can't get a flight out till morning."

Rusty's jaw set firmly. "He didn't say anything about coming back."

She looked at him carefully. "Would you have told him not to?"

"Of course." He didn't even hesitate.

"That'll be why he kept his mouth shut," she smiled, a little sadly.

"There's no need for it," he argued. There wasn't. There wasn't anything Saul could do.

She shrugged. "Saul takes his responsibilities seriously."

"We're not his responsibility!" Rusty pointed out sharply.

"Think he sees it differently." She sounded almost amused.

Rusty blinked and wondered.

"I need to phone Bobby and Saul to let them know what's happening," she continued. "Mind if I have a word with Walt first?"

He gestured towards the bedroom door. "Be my guest."

Walt looked up cheerfully when they entered the room. He was tidying up his bag. Danny's leg was bandaged. "Molly Prior! I thought I heard your dulcet tones!"

"It's Caldwell now, Walt. You were at the wedding." Her smile faded. "How's the patient?" Rusty drifted past quietly and stood at the head of the bed. He reached for Danny's hand.

"Simple extraction, no complications. He's going to be just fine." Walt's words were obviously intended as much for Rusty as Molly and Rusty nodded his understanding and looked back at Danny as Walt turned his smile on Molly. "Can't blame an optimistic old man for forgetting. Can I say you're looking beautiful?"

"Go ahead," she said dryly. "You won't be the first one tonight."

"Competition! At my age that's the last thing I need." He paused. "And where's the little one?"

"Linus? Left him with his grandparents. Which means that when I get back he'll probably be sitting, surrounded by every toy and candy bar available in a ten mile radius, and they'll be discussing what to buy him next." Her voice was fond and indulgent.

"Spoiling the kid is every grandparent's right," he told her.

There was a pause and Rusty was aware they were both looking at him. He held Danny's hand tight and didn't look round.

"I'm going to give Bobby and Saul a ring. Before they go completely out of their minds," Molly said abruptly.

"Too late, probably," Walt muttered.

She ignored him. "Rusty? What should I tell them happened?"

"We were pulling a Zabinski Switch. Must have got the timing wrong." He'd swear they hadn't. "The real guards showed up. Chased us. The owner shot at us." Shot at him. Hit Danny. Hit Danny. "I got him out of there. Stole a car."

"It's outside?" Molly asked quickly.

He nodded. "Yeah. Grey heap of junk. But not too noticeable. It'll keep till morning."

There was a pause and he stared down at his hand on Danny's and thought about consequences.

"You got him safe, Rusty." Molly said gently. "You did good."

"Lot of people don't do half as well," Walt agreed.

Rusty concentrated on keeping himself together. On being whole and stone.

Molly sighed and headed to the door. "I'll make some coffee as well, how about that?" she suggested brightly.

Rusty suddenly vaguely remembered that he should be being a host. "I can – "

" – Stay with Danny," Molly told him gently. "I can handle it."

The door shut behind her before Rusty could answer. "He really is going to be all right, kid." Walt said, equally gently.

"I know," Rusty said, distantly, the might-have-beens still flickering at the corner of his mind. "You said."

There was another pause. "Kid? Rusty?" He looked up. "I'm going to stay here for a few more hours. Until he's conscious and I'm sure everything's fine. I'll also leave you with a supply of painkillers and I'll bring a couple more prescriptions over tomorrow. And a set of crutches. He's going to need to stay off that leg completely for a few days and use the crutches for at least three weeks." Walt paused. "You got all that?"

Rusty nodded.

"Think you can handle all that?" Walt pressed further.

"He'll listen to me," Rusty said with a slight smile. He could be insistent.

"Glad to hear it. I'll tell him as well, but I thought I might as well get you up to speed first." Walt hesitated, as if he wanted to say something more.

"What else?" Rusty asked, quickly.

"I'd like to refer him to a physiotherapist. I know a guy, Will Sharpe, very discreet, very understanding. Now, I don't mind fiddling with Medicaid if – "

" – we can pay," Rusty assured him.

Walt frowned. "You sure?"

"What else is money for?" he said, lightly. He already had a couple of things in mind. Easy money. Things they'd left alone because they were too easy. Things they could do in their sleep, or he could do on his own. A thought crossed his mind and he smiled. "How much do we owe you, by the way?"

"Ah," Walt waved a hand dismissively. "You'll be seeing a lot of me over the next few weeks. We'll settle up at the end."

"You sure?" He was pretty certain that wasn't the way it usually worked.

"Saul called me," Walt explained with a grin. "That means I know you're good for it. Recommendations work two ways."

Well, that was a quick way of getting a good reputation. He nodded and turned back to looking at Danny's face, peaceful and still. He hated that.

Molly came back through and gently pressed a steaming mug of coffee into his hands along with a plate of cookies that he set down on the night stand. Mabel's cookies. He smiled fondly at them, took a quick gulp of coffee and almost choked; there was a more-than liberal shot of whisky in there.

She looked amused. "Found it in your cupboard. And I figure, you're old enough to get shot at, you're old enough to drink.

"Good policy," Walt agreed, holding up his own mug. "Cheers." They drank and Walt looked over at Molly. "Going to be operating the same rules for Linus?"

She breathed in sharply. "He's never going to be old enough to get shot at. We haven't made a positive decision on the drinking yet."

Rusty could see where this was about to go. And, honestly, he didn't want to get involved. He sat on the side of the bed and kept his eyes fixed on Danny and felt alone.

"You think these boys are old enough?" Walt asked and there was ice and anger in his voice.

Molly was calm and conciliatory. "Well, I'm sure no-one wants anyone to get shot. But it happens, Walt. You know that. And you said yourself, Danny is going to be fine."

"It wouldn't happen if they were safe at home." Walt argued.

They were at home.

"They are at home, Walt." Molly echoed his thought. "Look, just because they're young doesn't mean they don't have a right to make their own decisions. They know what they're doing. You heard about Rosetta Stein's place?"

That had been fun. Rusty smiled down at Danny and thought about the party and the marbles and the hoist for the ice sculptures, and he thought about the look on Danny's face when the head caterer had told them that Mrs Stein had specifically requested the two of them for her next Gala Dinner. In tighter trousers. They might have been worried about being recognised, but she hadn't been looking at their faces.

Walt paused. "They did that?"

"So I'm told," Molly answered smugly.

"Paddy Lynch has been talking about those marbles for three years"," Walt commented, his voice full of amusement.

She shrugged. "He's all talk these days."

Walt sighed. "None of this is the point, Molly. They're children."

And that was about as much as he could take. "Do you need me here for this?" he asked, politely.

Molly looked sharply at him. "Quite right. This isn't the time or the place."

It also wasn't their business. Though there were so many people these days who were interested in them. In their well being. And it wasn't like he didn't appreciate that. He smiled at them for a moment and then Danny moved ever so slightly and his attention was immediately where it always was.

"Rusty?" Molly attracted his attention gently. "I'm going to get rid of the car for you. Everything else still inside it?"

"I was going to do it later," he protested.

"Might as well do it now," she said calmly. "Gives me something to do."

He nodded. "Thank you," he said sincerely and he smiled at her and at Walt. Properly. "Thank you so much."

Molly nodded understandingly and headed out the door. Walt cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Don't mention it," he said and he looked at Rusty, holding Danny's hand, and for the first time he seemed to be seeing them as adults.

Rusty settled back and waited for Danny to wake up.

Hope you enjoyed.