Author's Notes: Hi everyone! So I am writing this A/N as I go, so I have no idea what's going to happen!! I have a vague idea based on something I read in the sourcebook, that Dan went to Maine sometime after he retired (I think…) and I thought, hey, Byron's loony bin's in Maine! And so…
Warnings: None except for the sad. Because I love Byron. :( Oh also, I totally break the mood early on by slipping in another geek-reference. A thousand internet cookies to anyone who gets it!
35. Better Days
Daniel squinted against the torrent of rainwater and wind that slapped hard against his windshield. The wipers were holding up against the barrage, but the rainwater still blurred the view of the glistening road before him, making it soft and foggy around the edges. He didn't really appreciate the surrealist rendering nor the way the car bumped its way down the asphalt, humming and buzzing and all too fragile. It made him feel a little vulnerable, small and helpless in this little tinpot car.
Fortunately, he was past the point of wishing for the Owlship.
The road was curving and treacherous, made twice so by the rain and wind. Trees lined the road on both sides, waving and gesticulating in the wind and making everything feel dark and closed in. As thunder rumbled and muttered just within earshot, Daniel rolled his eyes. Really, he was starting to believe his life was a walking cliché. Here he was, on a dark and stormy night (well, afternoon) driving a winding, treacherous and isolated road to an insane asylum. It was almost gag-worthy and Dan was not impressed in the slightest.
He almost wished he'd made up an excuse to Hollis, made up some reason why he couldn't go and visit Mr. Lewis in his mentor's stead. But he was a rotten liar and he could understand Hollis' habit of seeing Byron. Especially now that he and Hollis were in the same boat. Anything to hold on to some remnant of better days. And maybe Byron would recognize him this time. Last time, Byron had been convinced that Dan was in fact some man named Ted and had spent the whole time asking about how business was going. It was awkward and would have been a little funny if Dan couldn't see how much it bothered Hollis. Which, again, Dan could understand. He was all too familiar with how much it hurts to have a friend go insane.
Dan sighed and rubbed at his forehead with his knuckles, brushing those stupid licks of hair out of his face.
He pulled into the driveway of a ridiculously stereotypical asylum that looked like it'd be at home in a horror flick. Dan rubbed his eyes and wondered if anyone else in his life was aware of how ridiculous things were, or if it was just him. Sighing, he pushed the door open and turned up his collar against the rain and wind and rushed to the gate. Pushing through the double doors, he was greeted with the less esoteric design of typical hospital. He smiled politely at the woman at the front desk, who looked surprised to hear who he was visiting. She squinted at him closely before her face cleared.
"Oh, you're Mr. Mason's friend," She smiled, "That's right. I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you. You look so…" She seemed to be trying to find the best way to tell him that the last time she saw him he'd been a thinner, muscular and more confident young man. He smiled at her again and knew it wasn't the same one he'd given her all those years ago.
"Yeah, the years haven't been all that great to me," He laughed in familiar self-depreciation and cleaned off his glasses, "It's okay."
She smiled uncertainly, torn between saying nothing and being polite and telling him that he didn't look all that different, really. It'd just been a while and she wasn't really looking etc, etc. Instead, she opted for an apologetic smile and leading him to Byron's room.
"He'll be happy to see you," she said, "He's been doing very well today."
"Oh. Uh. Good." Dan nodded, keeping his polite smile. She opened the door and stepped in.
"Byron? You have a visitor Mr. Lewis. It's Dan Dreiberg."
Dan walked into the room with the unshakable feeling of awkwardness he always felt seeing someone he hadn't seen in a while. Byron had aged well, his hair still mostly brown and the wrinkles concentrated mostly on his eyes. He smiled at Dan, who smiled back.
"Ah. Hi, Mr. Lewis," Dan extended his hand to take Byron's. He shook it, "I don't know if you remember me, uh, it's been a while…"
Byron squinted nearsightedly at Dan's face for a moment before leading back and nodding, "Yeah. Hollis' little protégé. How are you, Danny?"
Dan let out a whoosh of breath as he grinned in relief, "Yeah. Yeah, that's me. Hollis couldn't be here today, sir. He's sick and may be down with the flu."
Byron waved his hand dismissively, "Ah, that's all right. He needs to be in top shape for his job, I don't blame him for not coming to see me."
Dan's heart sank and he searched for something to say, some tactful way to correct him, but Byron kept on going. "You know that Hollis put away Captain Axis a few weeks ago?" Byron beamed, "Good stuff. Good, good work. That's what you need to aspire to when you're out there, Danny boy." He nodded emphatically, "Yep. We did some good work. And when I'm outta here… It's gonna be back in business for Mothman!"
Byron looked so satisfied in his thoughts and memories that Dan could only find it in him to smile and say, "That sounds pretty good, Mr. Lewis."
"Danny," Byron looked reproachful, "Mr. Lewis is my father. Call me Byron. Everyone's so polite lately! Take Bill for example! I mean, he's one of the most goddamn polite…" He trailed off and his face fell as he looked around the room. Dan swallowed as the realization set in. Byron suddenly looked twice his age and twice as small as he stared at the bedspread.
"It's over, isn't it?"
Daniel didn't know what to say, but suddenly felt just as lost and wretched as Byron looked. "Yeah," he murmured finally, "I think it is."
Byron looked up at him, eyes suddenly sharp and clear, "There's nothing worse than losing your friend. Nothing in the world. 'Specially when it's something you can't help. Feels like your heart's getting ripped out and there's nothing you can do about it but be sorry. So, so sorry. I'm so sorry, everyone. I'm so sorry for everyone. So sorry because you can't be anything but sorry when it's all gone. It's all over and I'm so sorry."
Dan put a hand on his shoulder, "I don't think you've got anything to feel sorry about, Byron. You did a lot of good work, you know? Maybe… maybe it was just time for things to end. It's nothing you could do."
Byron looked at him with that stern, all-too-knowing gaze, "There had to at least have been something I could do to save Bill. To save my friend." He stared off into the distance, past Dan's shoulder, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everyone."
***
Dan drove home in silence, feeling bone cold even though the rain and wind had stopped and even though it was still overcast, by the time he made it back to New York, it'd probably clear up. The sun peeking over the shadowy clouds felt like a betrayal and for some reason, Dan felt cheated.
When he got home, he dropped his overcoat on the floor of the foyer and walked straight down to the basement. He stepped down the stairs and stared at the shadows curving over and around the curves of Archie. Feeling cut adrift, he walked over to the little trophy case where he kept all his pictures and newspaper clippings. He pulled the little, yellowing newspaper clipping of Nite Owl and Rorschach after their successful apprehension of Big Figure. They're standing side by side, proud and strong and confident and whole. Partners.
He slipped the clipping in the breast pocket of his shirt and pressed the button on Archie's side. The doors creaked a little but slid open easily for him. He climbed into Archie's belly and stood in the middle of the hull, looking around. Trying to shake his feeling of indelible loss, he walked over to the console and sat down in the driver's chair, relishing the familiarity of the view and position. He pulled the picture out of his pocket and stared at it, running his fingers over the buttons of the console. And if Daniel was being observed quietly in the shadow, wreathed in darkness and bound by demons that he couldn't even begin to fathom, he didn't notice.
He sat there for a very long time.
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A/N: I love you, Byron. And I hate how you have like, no lines so I have no idea if I did him any justice. :/ But still. Poor Dan has to go and have an existential crisis and Bryon had to go and be a nutball who inconveniently says things that hit close to home and Hollis probably has pneumonia and we have our little stalker making a cameo… man, everyone is just sad face today.