Epic by InSilva
Disclaimer: own nothing Oceany.
A/N: I'd like to mention a fic that might be slightly lost as it sits on the Crossover page (at the top on the right of the main O11 site). It's called "Perspectives", it's by Maia2 and it's a Supernatural/O11 crossover. I'll confess I don't know Supernatural but it didn't stop me thoroughly enjoying the fic. :)
Chapter Eight: Life and Death
Clearer water. Away from the ship. Away from most of the clusters of passengers who were making less noise now, who were more subdued, the initial shock of the sinking past and the reality of dealing with the situation hitting them. Away from the lifeboats with Terry and the rest of the rich. He'd found those lifeboats when he'd done the recce for Andrew Lee, long ago and far away (and two days seemed an absolute lifetime). He'd meant what he'd said. Times like these, money survives.
Well, he was a survivor too. A survivor and a fighter and a confident swimmer. Childhood in the back of beyond hadn't given him much but swimming in the river was up there with the magic of movie theatres and the longing for the bright lights and the need to escape and kick the dust from his heels at the earliest opportunity.
No, swimming he was alright with but fuck, the water was cold. The little dousing he'd had earlier in the room with the pipes and the handcuffs ranked as merely chilly by comparison. Out of the water would be a plan: an essential plan as far as Danny was concerned. There was being thrown in at the deep end and there was sinking or swimming but Rusty was certain that the icy Atlantic was not a place for a rookie.
The moon was up and that was something. Even so, it took Rusty a second to realise what he was looking at. Perfect.
"Hold on," he murmured, more to himself than anything and was surprised when Danny answered him.
"I didn't let go!" The words burst from Danny.
"What?" For a moment, Rusty was bewildered then realisation dawned at the same time as Danny elaborated, earnest and sincere thrown over his shoulder as if making Rusty understand was essential, trying to twist round to talk face to face with Rusty.
"In the water, I didn't-"
"I know. I know," he said again, soothingly.
"I wouldn't-"
"I know. Danny, I know."
There was a pause and Rusty felt the tension leave Danny, felt him lie back again in trust.
"I didn't want you to think…" The words were faint and Rusty almost didn't catch them.
Rusty gave a wry smile of indulgence at the top of Danny's head. "You just redefine idiocy."
There was a snort that suggested Danny did not feel he had the monopoly on that. Rusty chose to ignore it.
A moment's silence and then Danny said, "You were kidding about the sharks right?"
"Yeah. Too cold for sharks." He hoped so. Way things were, he could have had both legs bitten off and not be able to tell. "Probably keep the killer bees away too."
Danny gave a soft chuckle. "You think they'll make a movie of this?"
"Bound to. Look how well "The Poseidon Adventure" did."
"Always felt it was lucky it was Christmas."
"Wouldn't have got out of that ballroom otherwise."
Rusty checked their progress. Nearly there…
"Who'd you think would play us?"
"Bob and Bing?"
"Jimmy and Cary? Redford and Newman?"
"Bogart and Bacall?"
Danny's laughter was good to hear.
"I'm Bogart, right?"
Rusty grinned. "Expect so. Doubt you could walk in the heels."
"And you-"
"I'm like Jello on springs," he assured him.
"Look forward to seeing that."
Silence. Silence in which neither of them talked about possibilities and probabilities and the darkness and the deep.
"Here," Rusty said instead.
"Here," Rusty said and he felt Rusty encouraging him into an upright position and he bobbed in the water, supported by the life-jacket.
There was a large, flat expanse of wood floating in the water. Part of a packing crate from the cargo hold, Danny's brain told him when it had stopped trying to make it into a raft. Rusty guided Danny's fingers and they closed around the edge of it.
"S'not much but it's home," Rusty smiled.
Danny cracked a smile back at him.
"Compact and c-cosy," he replied, his teeth suddenly chattering. "My f-favourite."
"Get on," Rusty suggested.
"After you."
Rusty looked like he wanted to argue but instead, he scrambled on top of the crate, laying flat. The crate remained buoyant but it was definitely lower in the water. Rusty held out a hand and Danny grabbed him by the wrist.
"S'what we should have done earlier," Rusty told him. "Holding on by the wrist. Stronger bond."
"Uh huh. Like Loctite."
Rusty's teeth gleamed in the moonlight. "Stronger."
He was half out of the water now and Rusty was pulling him on to the wood and there was already a half-formed thought running through Danny that they might yet be washed up on a desert island with banana trees…coconut trees…pineapple trees…maybe rum trees and then he could make a pina col-
With a complete lack of ceremony, the packing crate capsized, tipping them both back into the water.
"Too much weight," Danny suggested as Rusty helped him back to the edge of the crate.
Rusty gave him a look that was a mix of fondness and exasperation.
"Are you always full of this kind of insight?"
Danny's grin faded. "It's only going to take one of us."
"Yep. You."
"No. I'm not the one who's been doing the swimming and…what happened to your life-jacket?" he asked, suddenly realising.
"Colour didn't go with my eyes," Rusty said easily.
Danny frowned but before he could pursue it, Rusty was speaking again.
"I'm fine in the water, Danny, honestly. Regular little Esther Williams."
Danny laughed in spite of himself. "Anyone else would have said Johnny Weissmuller."
"Never sure how good I'd look in a loincloth."
"But a swimsuit-"
"Oh, I could carry that off, same as the heels. I may yet enter 'Miss Universe'. Get on the crate."
"No."
The glare was fierce and when it was obvious that wasn't going to work, Rusty sighed.
"OK. We take it in-"
"-turns," Danny agreed.
"You first." Simultaneous.
Another sigh. "Alright."
Rusty slid back on top of the packing crate and Danny was both pleased and strangely disappointed. He'd thought Rusty would hold out longer. He knew he would. Even though the water was like winter and he didn't think he could feel his feet any longer and his head was heavy... Still. Rusty was up on the packing crate and safe and he was holding on to the edge and they were together and that was all that mattered.
"You gonna tell me about Tess?"
He saw Danny smile. That was good. The water was colder than Alaska and the open air was not much better. He needed to gather his strength and keep Danny talking.
"She's a little younger than me. She's smart and she's funny and she's good-looking and she carries herself so… We worked late together a couple of times. Just the two of us sending out for pizza. And it was amazing. Then Terry arrived and it all went-"
Rusty's punch was hard and solid and deliberate and it connected in just the right spot to send Danny's head rocking back on itself and into oblivion. At once, Rusty was off the crate and heaving Danny's unconscious body up and on to the wood.
"I'm sorry," he muttered over and over. "I'm sorry."
Danny lay slumped forward, his head resting on his arm.
"I'm sorry," Rusty told him again softly, reaching up and stroking Danny's hair. "Not that sorry though."
The ship had slid away off the horizon, sucked under the waves faster than a greenhorn gambler's bankroll disappearing at the roulette table.
Reuben sat in the overcrowded lifeboat and watched it disappear, impotence and worry and guilt running through him. He was in the habit of surviving but that didn't mean he had to feel good about it. Right now, he was fuming.
When the explosions had happened, he'd made it his business to find out what was going on. He'd walked straight past Willy Bank, looking at a loss for once and he'd seen Danny, distracted and radiating uptight unhappiness, with a Terry Benedict whose self-assurance was badly shaken.
"Where's Rusty?" he'd asked and he'd seen the misery encasing Danny crack wide open and resolve take its place.
Reuben didn't know what was going on there but he liked Danny. He liked Rusty. He'd sat at the dinner table the previous night and he'd overheard the ridiculous conversations and he'd seen the way they'd looked at each other and neither of them might realise it but they were falling in love. Had fallen in love.
Oh, it might not be like that - Rusty had sounded definite on this point and Reuben wasn't going to push it but this was way past casual acquaintance. They already meant something to each other and it was as if they'd bypassed the conventional getting to know you stage and had leapt straight in at the do anything, risk life and limb to keep you safe point of a relationship.
The poker game had been fun to watch. Rusty blithely and brilliantly cheating – man, that boy could handle cards – and Danny didn't have a clue. And Rusty knew that Danny didn't and that was part of the joke. Reuben had enjoyed the joke too. And when Danny had realised…priceless.
They'd walked away from the table and Reuben had watched them go, easy together, walking shoulder to shoulder and moving in each other's space as if they'd known one another for years. They looked right together which was why he'd asked where Rusty was.
Terry. It had to be Terry. As Danny disappeared from the deck, Reuben stood and worked it out and was willing to bet that Terry had put a stop to the friendship. Well, Danny didn't look the sort to just agree meekly. And from what he'd seen of Rusty, it didn't seem likely he'd be bought off. Which left what exactly? Intimidation of some sort. One or other or both of them had been threatened and Terry had got his way.
Reuben had smiled grimly. Not anymore, he hadn't.
Hanging around with Terry was partly about watching with delight the snarl and the frustration when he realised Danny was gone. It was also about steering clear from the mayhem he could hear on the decks below. It sounded like it was turning nasty.
"Lifeboats are out." The big hulk that Terry employed reported back. "Sabotage."
"Follow me, sir." Timothy was at his side and leading him away and Reuben followed curiously. So did a group of the others, scenting escape.
The private deck with the two lifeboats that were intact made Reuben feel slightly ill. Privilege had its privileges.
"We should let the other passengers know," he'd said and Timothy had stared at him uncomprehendingly.
"There'll be children," he'd insisted. He'd turned to the others. "We should draw straws or something."
"This isn't a fucking state lottery!" the nearest man scoffed. "They take their chances same as we do."
Reuben stared at a sea of unashamed self-centred faces. They all stared defiantly back at him.
"You want to give up your place, Tishkoff, you do that." Willy's voice, silky and amused. "I'll make sure Vegas dims its lights."
It wasn't right. It wasn't right and they all knew it and not one of them cared.
"Out of the way," said the man closest as the ship shook and then there was a tide of them, swarming into the boat and carrying him with them.
He protested and he fought but the wave of desperation swept him away with it and he was squashed at the back of the lifeboat between two enormous men, powerless to do anything about it.
"Sit tight, you bleeding heart," threatened the one on his left. "Or this lifeboat'll be a little lighter."
He was down in the water peering up as the second lifeboat launched. There seemed to be some sort of incident though, some sort of kerfuffle and then there was a collective gasp as one of its occupants launched himself back out of the boat and back on to the ship. Someone on board hauled him to safety. Well…for a given value of safety.
The second lifeboat rowed alongside and he stared at Terry Benedict's furious face. Afterimages of what he'd seen burned through Reuben's mind...dark hair and blond... Reuben couldn't stop the smile. Then he'd looked back at the sinking ship and the smile had vanished. They might be together but that didn't mean they were going to be safe.
Now he sat in the silent lifeboat and sent up silent prayers and tried to block out the sounds of fear and death.
It was later. So much later and he'd tried to check his watch but the inner workings had seized up either because of the water or the cold. He thought it would be impossible for the temperature to drop any lower but as he held on to the makeshift raft and watched the soft white breath from Danny's mouth, he was willing to concede he was wrong on that score.
Seeing the breath in the air was a good thing, he told himself. Meant he knew that Danny was still alive and that was something. And while he could still work that out, then he was still alive and that was something too. He couldn't feel his feet or his legs or any part of his body that was still in the water. Mind you, he couldn't feel any part of his body that was out of the water either. Fuck, but it was cold. So cold. Tiredness crept through him and he pushed it away. He needed to stay awake and alert.
Danny needs you.
The thought jumpstarted him and he coughed and cleared his throat and started talking.
"One of the things we are not going to do when we're back on dry land is take on Earl Barton. Earl is a mean son of a bitch and believe me, there's more than enough good reason to want to take him on but we're not going to. Unless you can think of a good plan. I mean I'm sure I can get us in but…"
He broke off and stared at Danny and the cold was deep within him now and he was shaking with it. He forced himself to continue.
"I tried b-before," he managed and the memory floodlit his mind. "Earl's t-tricky to track. He doesn't trust anyone. S'probably why he's so successful..."
Shock. That's all it was. He'd had so much to concentrate on and adrenaline had carried him through, that and the need to keep Danny safe and now he just had him. He was alone. Not a problem. He'd been alone before. He'd-
He jolted awake, his fingers gripping the crate, his chin resting on it, close to Danny. He hadn't realised he'd been sleeping. How long had he slept for? He looked anxiously at Danny. Danny was still out for the count. Good. Good. They'd never have been able to take it in turns. Hauling themselves up and out of the water would have taken far more energy than either could manage.
He hoped those flares had done something. He hoped that someone would rescue them. And he hoped that they'd do it soon.
A hand was shaking him awake. Groggily, Danny opened his eyes to misty dawn and saw a pair of brown eyes (wrong colour) staring at him.
"You OK, mate?"
Without waiting for an answer, hands were dragging him towards them and with a cry, he realised where he was and pulled free. Rusty. The crate-raft and he'd…Rusty'd hit him. Bastard. He should have known Rusty wouldn't give in that easily. Where was Rusty? Where was…
Frantically, he checked the water around the raft. No sign of him. He looked up at the little launch boat that was half full of blanket-covered people who'd no doubt been pulled from the wreckage. No Rusty.
Rusty should be here. Rusty wouldn't have left him. Rusty wouldn't… Realisation hit Danny hard and he couldn't stop the moan of pain. Rusty wouldn't. Which only left one answer.
