They sat at the kitchen table for a while that morning. In fact, by the time Danny finally finished the omelet Vlad had cooked him, it was nearly one in the afternoon. Vlad did not care; he knew they had no schedule to keep, but it was odd for him to comprehend. He began to realize that he hardly ever had any down time whatsoever—it was all spent working to make money or scheming against Jack or Daniel. He couldn't remember a time lately when he'd even sat down at his kitchen table to eat breakfast because he had never had the time in the mornings. Sometimes he ate on the go, and sometimes he didn't eat at all. He couldn't imagine himself taking as long to eat breakfast as Daniel was, and even sitting here watching him as he ate made him feel as if he were late to something very important. It was all so foreign to him, and he thought that the near future would feel very similarly to him.
Vlad sat patiently as Danny ate. They were both unsure of what to say, and they were both silent. The silence was quickly becoming unbearably awkward. Vlad strained to think of something to say to Daniel, anything that might break the tension—it was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, as the saying goes—but it seemed impossible to him; what was there to say to someone who lost both their family and their best friends in one fell swoop only the day before? He did not think there was anything, nothing but more condolences, and he might have resorted to giving one, too, if Daniel had not spoken up.
"Were we supposed to leave, or something?" he asked without much interest.
Vlad knew he did not care whatsoever if they were supposed to leave—he had only wanted to break that thick tension by saying it. Vlad found himself excruciatingly grateful for it.
"Yes," he said.
"It's my fault we didn't catch the flight, huh?" Danny said. He wasn't looking at Vlad, nor had he once the entire time they had been sitting there, not even as he talked.
"It isn't a problem, little badger," Vlad said, and picked up his cup of coffee and took a long sip. He felt less awkward now. He was in control of the situation now that he knew what to say.
"No?" Danny asked, his voice again sounding completely uninterested.
"No," Vlad said, "not at all. I'll just have to reschedule our flights. It isn't a big deal." He knew it was, really—it had not been even remotely easy to schedule his flight to Amity Park on such short notice, and another two flights to take them back to Wisconsin—but he knew Daniel must already feel so guilty and he did not want to add more on top of it.
"It is a big deal, Vlad," Danny said quietly. "I'm sorry I was so stubborn."
"Daniel, you shouldn't be sorry."
"But if I would have let you inside, we would have made the flight. I'm sorry," he said softly.
"Daniel, it's alright."
"Really, Vlad?" Danny asked.
Vlad swore he heard a note of sarcasm in his voice. Still, he answered dutifully, "Of course, Danny. It was foolish of me to schedule our flight for today, let alone this morning. You wouldn't have had any time to pack your things had we left this morning."
"Oh," he said, again, sounding completely disinterested. His voice was completely mundane. He did not sound sad, though he was, at what Vlad had suggested. That he pack his bags and leave Amity Park and never return. To do that was to acknowledge that his family would never be back, and though he was not completely aware of it yet, subconsciously he was not ready to do so. But he had no idea how it could be avoided.
Again, they both elapsed into that awkward silence. Vlad knew that his suggestion that Daniel needed time to pack his things had bothered him. He assumed it was because the idea of packing up to leave Amity Park, and all it meant to him, behind was difficult, but he was not sure. He felt hesitant to press him, and he sat silently staring into his mug of coffee.
Danny looked at Vlad silently as the awkward silence progressed. He suddenly felt as if he had offended Vlad somehow. Perhaps he had given Vlad the idea that he did not want to live with him by sounding so uninterested and irate? While that was correct, he could understand why Vlad might be hurt if he thought that. Danny felt immediately guilty, for perhaps the thousandth time in the past two days, and wanted to at least make an effort to look like he cared.
To lighten the mood, that of tension and awkwardness, Danny did the only thing he could think of: engaging Vlad in witty conversation.
"That's pretty lame, Vlad," he said. "You can come up with all these elaborate schemes to destroy me and my dad and to get my mom, but you can't book a plane without messing it up. Isn't it kind of obvious that I'll need time to pack before I leave?"
Or as close it could get to witty.
Vlad looked up and smiled good-humoredly. "Well Daniel, I may be able to come up with all these elaborate schemes to destroy you and your father and to get your mother, but I would like to see the day I am actually able to execute them. The last time I checked, you were always defeating me and foiling my plans."
"Okay, you don't need to give me that much sympathy, Vlad," Danny said, and smiled, only slightly, but smiled all the same.
Vlad smiled at him, feeling immense relief. There was the Daniel he knew, that witty and overconfident boy. And he thought that perhaps Daniel would be alright. Perhaps it wouldn't be long before Daniel was smiling and laughing as he had seen him do while spying on him. Nothing could fix what had happened, but perhaps Daniel would move on.
If anything, though, Vlad hoped Daniel would at least keep it together long enough for them to reach Wisconsin.