A/N: Nothing really to say. Hope you enjoy the chapter.


Right. First thing was to get out of here. Find Rusty. Dodge Mackenzie and Dawson's people. Escape. Live happily ever after. Easy as pineapple pie.

He was still breathing too quickly. Still gripped with fear. Still all-too-able to imagine the feeling of the pencil gliding into his ear. Through his eardrum. Still all-too-able to imagine that pain.

And even more it was impossible not to imagine Rusty dragged away by Willy and Bill. And he knew what they were capable of. Images of the soldering iron mixed with images of the man and the knife from his memory. Rusty hurting and Danny nowhere near.

Focus. Deep breaths. Escape.

The whole tied-to-a-chair part was obviously the first obstacle. He'd tested the knots, of course; they weren't going to loosen no matter what he did.

They didn't have to.

Rocking back and forth he managed to get enough momentum to end up on his feet, leaving him bent over ridiculously, his arms bent painfully, unnaturally back, the chair now tied to him like some very confused snail.

Didn't matter how it looked. The point was...

He swung himself against the wall as hard as he could and he was confident he'd done a good job in bruising his shoulder. The chair, however, remained resolutely intact. He tried again. And again. Fuck, but they made these things to last. There was probably some serious product endorsement that Mackenzie could work out here.

He took a deep breath. Leaned forwards. Swung harder. This time he heard wood splintering and, encouraged, he swung against the wall, rapidly and irregularly, and bit by bit, little by little, the chair cracked into pieces.

After that, the ropes fell off easily and he ran towards the door.

There was no sound in the corridor but further away, somewhere downstairs, he could still hear shouting. Whatever was happening, it wasn't over. Turf war, Steven had said. Why did it have to happen while they were still in the middle of it?

Cautiously, he opened the door and crept out. Like he'd figured there was no one outside.

Right. Now he had to find Rusty. Immediately. Sooner. Fear was driving him absolutely. It had been at least twenty minutes now. Anything could have happened and he was trying his very best not to consider the possibilities.

They'd taken Rusty to the basement. Stairs. He ran.

Rusty would be fine. Rusty was tough. Rusty could survive anything. Rusty would be fine. If he told himself that often enough he might start to believe it.

Two flights down and he didn't hear the man on the landing over the sound of his own frantic footfalls.

Fortunately, the man seemed to be more surprised to see him. He was standing there, on the landing, gun in one hand, walky-talky in the other, and when Danny ran down the corner, he looked up and his eyes widened in shock and astonishment. "Hey!" he yelled, and Danny wasn't listening.

He turned and ran back up the stairs, and he could hear the man following him. Fuck. Okay, so far they'd been no gunfire. And since Dawson's people seemed to be the most trigger happy, he could figure that this was probably one of Mackenzies guys. And that meant he knew the building like the back of his hand, while Danny didn't even know the back of his hand like the back of his hand.

"Wait!" the man yelled, and Danny didn't take orders. Especially that kind of order. There was nowhere to hide on a staircase. He threw himself through the next door he came to and was back on the floor he'd started on, heading back towards Mackenzie's office.

"Where are you going?" the man called, sounding frustrated. Danny had no idea. He was just running down a corridor.

Thing was, like he'd figured, if this was one of Mackenzie's people, he did know his way round. But more importantly – much more importantly – he probably knew exactly where they'd have taken Rusty.

As soon as the idea occurred it was a plan and as soon as it was a plan he was putting it into action.

He dived through the next door in the corridor and stopped short. Waited. A few seconds later he heard pounding footsteps approach and he stepped out and punched as hard as he could.

He caught the man on the jaw. Hard. And the man stumbled back, but he didn't fall and he was staring at Danny with an expression of complete bewilderment – hadn't been expecting to see Danny. Hadn't been expecting Danny to fight. Looked like the element of surprise was well and truly his.

"Where is he?" he snarled, following his first punch with a second.

This time the man caught his wrist. "What the fuck are you - "

Not the answer he was looking for. There was only one thing he was prepared to listen to. "Where is he?" he repeated, wrenching his hand back with an effort, and the man tried to grab him again, and next thing it was an all-out wrestling match, and the man had the height advantage, seemed to have every advantage, but it was almost like he was reluctant to use it.

"Time out!" a voice bellowed.

He froze. Rusty's voice. Rusty.

He turned anxiously and Rusty was standing in the doorway, looking at both of them. There was blood on Rusty's face – his lip was split – and his shirt was ripped right open, but he didn't look that much the worse for wear. Nowhere like Danny had been trying not to imagine. He tried to ask the question without asking the question and Rusty shook his head minutely, reassuringly. And Rusty was asking the same question in the same instant and Danny was offering the same promises. They were fine; more or less.

"Okay," Rusty said calmly. "Quick introductions. Danny, this is Bobby Caldwell. Bobby, Danny got hit on the head last week and he doesn't remember anything."

Bobby Caldwell. Oh. The guy Rusty had called for help tracking a useful cop. The guy Rusty had told him to go to for help. (And part of him remembered darkly Rusty's insistence that Danny leave him behind. Oh, that was something to come back to later.) Bobby Caldwell. Their friend.

Suddenly intensely aware that his hands were still gripping Bobby's collar, he let go and stepped back. "Sorry," he said, grimacing as he noted the rapidly forming bruise on Bobby's jaw. "Sorry."

Bobby was staring at him. "You don't remember anything?" he asked incredulously.

"I remember Rusty," he answered defensively. "Now."

"You serious? This isn't a wind-up?" Bobby demanded, looking from one to the other and he seemed to be really looking for some punchline, some sign that this was all a practical joke. It wasn't.

He shrugged and said nothing. He didn't remember this man. He didn't want to explain themselves.

"Stan says it's temporary," Rusty said softly.

"Right." Bobby shook his head and looked at the pair of them worriedly. "Are you alright? What the hell are you doing here? Last I heard you were leaving the bank - "

" - the phonecall," Rusty said suddenly. "There was a clicking...the line was tapped. I should've got that."

"Mackenzie's people picked us up," Danny told Bobby, seeing that Rusty wasn't about to say something. "They wanted to know where the list was."

"Cops have it now," Bobby told them absently. He was staring and he took a deep breath. "Did they do anything?"

The concern in his voice was real, Danny realised. A real and fervent hope that he and Rusty weren't hurt. Wonderingly, he shook his head reassuringly. "They didn't get much past threats."

There was a look in Rusty's eyes that seemed to be questioning the 'much' and the 'threats' but then Bobby was looking at him anxiously and Rusty smiled. "Other than ruining a perfectly good shirt? Nothing much." His eyes flickered over to Danny. "Willy's a one trick pony," he said quietly and Danny understood what that meant and he shuddered. "But they ran out when everything kicked off. Guess that was your doing, huh?"

"Just along for the ride," Bobby told them. "Kind of hoping that none of the local guys ask what the Bureau's interest in this whole mess is."

"What are you doing here?" Rusty asked with a slight frown.

"You said on the phone that everything was fine," Bobby said simply. "I didn't believe you." He looked at Danny. Looked around Mackenzie's office. "Guess I was right."

"Yeah..." Rusty sighed and rubbed his mouth. "Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby wasn't quite willing to let up. "I know you like being independent but something like this...someone like Mackenzie after you and you don't think to ask for help? Jesus, Rusty."

And that wasn't fair. "Hey," he objected. "I was there too."

Bobby looked at him and his eyes softened. He cleared his throat. "Right. We don't have much time. We need to get you out of here. We haven't managed to track down all of Mackenzie's people yet, not to mention the whole building is crawling with cops who will arrest you first and ask questions later."

Rusty nodded. "There's the underground passage in the parking lot? If we can make it that far."

"No good," Bobby said immediately. "The ground floor's completely covered. No way in or out. You're going to have to bluff your way through." He fished in his pocket and came out with a couple of detective badges. "These should help."

Danny stared. "What, you just happened to be carrying those around?" he asked, incredulously.

Rusty was grinning. "It's good to be prepared. Bobby's kind of like Batman."

With an effort, Danny managed to avoid laughing at the look on Bobby's face.

Rusty shrugged. "What? I could've said you were a Boy Scout. And I don't think you've got the knees for it."

"We'd better get going," Bobby told them dryly.

"I'm not very inconspicuous right now," Rusty commented with a grimace and Danny had to admit, he had a point. The torn shirt was going to attract attention. "Feel like David Banner."

"Try walking away slowly. I'll listen for the music," Danny said, shrugging out of his jacket and handing it over.

Rusty went to pull it on.

"Wait!" Bobby said sharply "What's that?" He was pointing at Rusty's side, where red skin and dried blood were just peeking through. "You said they didn't get a chance to hurt you."

"That was there before," Rusty said, with a determined casualness that Danny was absolutely certain wasn't going to work. Not on Bobby. He frowned deeply, and there was almost memory there, but when he tried to chase it down, it crumbled to dust.

Bobby was staring. "Is that...tell me that's not glue."

Rusty scrambled hurriedly into the jacket.

"We ready to go?" Danny asked, trying to cover the moment.

Bobby looked at him, his brow creased. "You knew about this? You let him...." He trailed off. Danny knew that his face was showing his guilt. He hadn't known then. He hadn't understood anything then. "Sorry," Bobby said quietly. "I wasn't thinking."

"Let's get going," Rusty said quietly.

They headed for the stairs and Bobby was leading the way and Rusty carefully waited until Danny started walking before falling into the rear, neatly surrounding Danny with as much safety as he could offer. Danny couldn't quite decide whether that made him amused or irritated. Either way, he wanted to call Rusty an idiot.

There was a noise coming from the floor above. They froze, looking upwards.

"I need to check that out," Bobby said in a whisper.

"Sounded like a fax machine," Rusty hissed back.

"I still need to check," Bobby answered immediately. "It's what they pay me for."

"Think they also pay you not to steal shit," Rusty muttered. "You don't pay attention to that...." He sighed. "Okay, let's go.

"No," Bobby said firmly. "You two stay here."

Rusty looked like he was going to argue and Danny wasn't exactly happy about it himself. He did not want to stand around doing nothing while Bobby did something dangerous. "Not a chance," he said out loud, but Bobby was looking at Rusty, a wordless conversation taking place, and Danny didn't need his memories to read that one.

Bobby was telling Rusty to stay here and protect Danny. And Rusty was listening. Danny was a liability.

"Don't be long," Rusty told Bobby. "Be careful."

Danny kept his mouth shut and said nothing, and, gun in hand, Bobby crept up the stairs.

Leaning against the wall, Danny looked at Rusty who'd turned away, taking advantage of Bobby's absence to scratch furiously. Least he stopped at Danny's look. "What happens when we get out of here?" Danny asked, and it was mostly about making conversation, mostly about keeping other thoughts inside.

"We're not out of here," Rusty answered simply.

"No you're not," Mackenzie agreed.

He stepped out onto the stairs and laid his gun against Rusty's head.

Fuck.

Danny hadn't even seen exactly where he came from. Hadn't heard a sound. Mackenzie must've been waiting in the corridor all along. Listening to them. Just waiting for the opportunity.

Mackenzie's eyes were fixed on Danny. "You have caused me a great deal of inconvenience."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Danny said with blatant insincerity, and there was a gun against Rusty's head. Focusing on anything else was impossible.

"The police are all over my business. Shutting me down. I hold you responsible. You and your friend here."

Transfixed, Danny watched as the barrel of the gun was ground harder against Rusty's temple. It was hurting him, Danny could see that. Even if Rusty's mouth was shut and his eyes were expressionless, Danny could see that.

"We don't work for the cops," he pointed out.

"Your friend does," Mackenzie said coldly. "I saw him with the others. They were listening to him. And I have to tell you, it doesn't matter who you're working for. What matters is that you know where my list is. And I want it back."

He had been listening. He knew about Bobby. And Danny didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to do.

"You can't always get what you want," Rusty said with a smile, and Danny wasn't so convinced that the Rolling Stones were helpful right now.

Mackenzie sighed and struck out viciously with the gun. Blood spattered against the wall. Rusty's hand was pressed tight against his cheek.

There had been an opportunity there. For a second there had been an opportunity there, a moment when the gun had been pointed at neither of them and Danny had missed it. All he'd been able to think was that if he charged, if he threw himself on Mackenzie, then there was a chance that Rusty would end up dead. He hadn't been able to take the risk. But the gun was back, pointed at Rusty's head, and he should've...he thought he should've.

"I'm going to say it again," Mackenzie told them mildly. "I want my list back."

He had to think. Of course Mackenzie wanted his list back. If his empire had gone sour he needed an escape route. The money, the merchandise...it would give him a means to start somewhere else. A means to rebuild. And if they were the ones who knew where the list was, then that meant they were holding the cards. Didn't it?

"I'm waiting," Mackenzie added, and the barrel of the gun was digging into Rusty's cheek, between Rusty's fingers, and Rusty didn't quite manage to stifle the gasp of pain.

"Stop it!" Danny snarled.

Mackenzie's eyes were on him. "That's what you said before. You care about him, don't you?" His voice was vaguely curious and vaguely amused. "Well, you're going to watch him die unless you tell me what I want to know. Where is my list?"

He was going to watch Rusty die. He couldn't.

Somewhere behind Mackenzie, Danny saw a shadow moving. Bobby, he was sure of it. But he was equally sure that Bobby was helpless. Bobby wasn't going to risk trying anything while Mackenzie had a gun pressed to Rusty's head.

He met Rusty's eyes, wanting to see a plan there, wanting to be told what to do, and Rusty was apologising silently.

Rusty didn't know what to do.

Danny did.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, Danny knew exactly what to do. The plan was all there in his head.

"Don't hurt him," he begged, broken and afraid. "I'll tell you. I swear I'll tell you."

Mackenzie was looking at him, a smile of cold triumph on his face. "Of course you will."

Mackenzie didn't know them. Not him and not Rusty. Didn't know anything. There was their advantage because all those things that Danny had forgotten didn't seem so very important anymore. He knew Rusty and he knew Them and that meant he never had to give up.

"The cops have the list," he said truthfully. "It was hidden in that bank that they raided earlier this evening, and they've got it."

The gun ground against Rusty's cheek a little harder. "That's not the answer I wanted to hear."

"But we're going to get it back!" Danny explained desperately. "Mr Donavan's figured out a way for us to get it back."

"Donavan's dead," Mackenzie said, but there was a hesitancy and an uncertainty. Seemed like the rumours that Rusty had started had spread nicely. Their imaginary Donavan represented a potential threat to Mackenzie.

He let a momentary expression of knowing amusement flicker across his face. "Dead. Right. That was something of an exaggeration."

"A lie," Rusty added helpfully and his eyes met Danny's briefly and he was following Danny's lead, following Danny's plan, trusting Danny. Danny hoped he knew what he was doing.

Mackenzie's jaw was set and his eyes were hard and Danny had to keep off balance and focused on the prize. Couldn't let him stop and think. "Mr Donavan is alive and well and he's worked very hard to get his hands on that list."

"My list," Mackenzie corrected. "And he is not going to get it because you are going to give it to me."

Danny hesitated. Looked doubtful.

"And if you don't," Mackenzie went on, "Then you're going to watch your friend die."

"Don't tell him anything!" Rusty cut in, just like in every movie Danny thought he'd ever seen.

"I have to," he said with soft, intense anguish. "I have to." He took a deep breath and looked Mackenzie straight in the eye. "The guy we were talking with before. He's on Donavan's payroll. He was going to take us in. Make it look to the cops like he was arresting us. There's a cop there. Sergeant – " His eyes cut to Rusty.

" – Joe McAllen," Rusty supplied easily.

"That's him," Danny agreed. "We give him the password, he slips us the list and releases us on a technicality, nobody's any the wiser."

"Password?" Mackenzie cut in sharply. "So he doesn't know you?"

"No," Danny agreed hesitantly.

"He's expecting two of us," Rusty said quickly, like it was important.

There was a slight frown on Mackenzie's face, like he was making new plans. That was what Danny wanted to see.

"What is the password?" Mackenzie demanded at last.

Danny's face showed agony. "Please. He'll kill us if we do."

"It's far too late to think of that," Mackenzie told them. "I'm right here. I'm holding a gun to your friend's head. Do you honestly think I won't pull the trigger?"

"No," Danny admitted quietly. Mackenzie would pull the trigger in a heartbeat. "The password is Get Happy."

"Get Happy?" Mackenzie repeated with incredulous distaste.

"Right," Danny agreed. "Say that to Sergeant McAllen and he'll know who you are."

"You're coming with me," Mackenzie ordered. "I want to keep an eye on you. I want to make sure you're not trying anything."

Danny didn't particularly like that plan. But it was better that than Mackenzie kept one of them hostage and stayed out of it. "Fine," he agreed tightly.

"Will three of us cause a problem?" Mackenzie asked, staring intently at him.

"Nah," he said with a shrug. "Donavan doesn't trust anyone. From his point of view the more the better. McAllen won't be surprised."

"Very well." Mackenzie nodded slowly. "Now all we need to do is wait for your friend."

Bobby's cue. And Bobby had been in earshot, had been listening, and the only question was whether Bobby trusted him enough to go along with his plan.

Just because the wait was only a couple of moments didn't mean it wasn't agony.

They heard Bobby before they saw him. Obviously he didn't want to risk sneaking up on Mackenzie and Mackenzie's gun. "Hey, guys, are you – " He stepped round the corner. Froze, like the scene in front of him was the last thing he'd ever been expecting.

Mackenzie's gun was on him instantly, but the crook of his arm was wound tightly round Rusty's throat and there was no opportunity here at all.

"Hello there," Mackenzie said pleasantly. "Take your gun out. Slowly."

Bobby complied, looking between the three of them uneasily.

"Now, take the clip out and slide it over to me," Mackenzie ordered, and again, Bobby obeyed immediately.

"What's going on?" Bobby demanded, and the tone of useless anger in his voice sounded perfect to Danny.

"There has been a slight change of plan," Mackenzie explained, with the cold smile of one who was holding the entire pack. "I believe you were going to take these two...gentlemen into custody and introduce them to Sergeant McAllen. Now you're going to take all three of us."

A look of absolute fury came his way. "You told him! I can't believe you told him, you spineless fucking –

" – now, now," Mackenzie cut in smoothly. "There's no time for recriminations. I've told you how it's going to be. Make it look good."

They made it look very good. Walking down the stairs, like Bobby had just arrested them, and Mackenzie was splitting his attention between Danny and Rusty in front and Bobby just behind him.

That was what made it easy, as they stepped out into the police-filled foyer and the dozen guns were trained on their heads, for he and Rusty to inch sideways and Bobby to inch back, leaving all of them out of Mackenzie's reach.

"Identify yourselves!" the cop in charge bellowed.

"It's me Lieutenant," Bobby said calmly, flashing his badge. "And these are Detectives Hill and Friar. They're the reason I'm here."

"Hi," Danny said, flashing the badge and a smile and knowing that on the other side, Rusty was doing the exact same thing.

"They've been undercover," Bobby went on, and there was curt nod of understanding and belief.

And that only left Mackenzie to be explained. And all the guns were pointed at him now and he wasn't nearly stupid enough to try anything.

"And this is William Mackenzie," Bobby said, and somehow all the guns got pointed a little bit harder.

"The big boss man himself!" The lieutenant was smiling. Mackenzie very much wasn't. "Okay. Cuff him and read him his rights," he yelled, and half

"I underestimated you," Mackenzie said in a low voice, and he was staring at Danny, like he was committing every detail to memory. "Please believe me. I will not do so again."

Yeah. Danny didn't think he would.

"I just need to debrief my men," Bobby called over his shoulder to the lieutenant, and before he'd even got the absent okay, he was hustling them towards the exit like the building was on fire.

Getting out of here as fast as possible. Seemed like a good idea.


They were a couple of blocks away before they even thought of slowing down.

"I need to get back," Bobby told them immediately. "I need to make sure that nothing sticks."

"We're leaving town," Rusty said promptly. "Soon as possible."

"Good." Bobby sounded relieved. "I'll catch up with you on a few days. And you're going to tell me all about it."

Wasn't exactly clear what the unspoken threat was, but Danny still heard it loud and clear. Apparently they were in trouble. But from the way Rusty was smiling, it wasn't trouble they were going to pay too much attention to.

"There's a few guys in there who know what we look like," Rusty said to Bobby, an edge to his voice. "Names are Bill, Willy, Harry and Steven."

"I'll look out for them," Bobby promised. "Think the cops have got everyone. They were definitely in the building?"

"Oh, yeah," Rusty agreed, rubbing absently at his side.

Danny winced as Bobby caught the gesture.

His eyes darkened. "I'll look out for them," he repeated. "You get going now. I'll see you in a couple of days."

"Thanks, Bobby," Rusty said with soft sincerity. "We owe you one."

"Thank you," Danny echoed.

Bobby looked at him and shook his head and whatever he was thinking he wasn't going to share it.

They watched him head back to Mackenzie's place and they started walking away.

"So," Danny began after a second.

"Taxi, airport, home?" Rusty suggested.

Danny frowned. "First we're going to call Stan."

Rusty looked at him sideways, his eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, we are, are we?"

"Yeah," Danny said and this time he was insistent and this time there would be no arguments.

Over the past few days he hadn't known anything. He'd left Rusty to make the decisions, left Rusty to take care of both of them. That ended now. He didn't remember everything but it felt like he knew what mattered.

After another moment, he glanced at Rusty uncertainly. "Rus'? If my memories never come back...we're...nothing changes, right?" He knew how he felt. But he'd been so lost for so long and he wanted to hear it out loud.

Rusty's smile was overwhelming. "No. Nothing changes."

"Good," he sighed contentedly. "And don't you ever say you'll leave me again."

"I think I can manage that," Rusty promised, still smiling. "Can we go home now? I've seriously had enough of this fucking city."

Danny laughed and walked beside him.

Home. Felt like he was already there.


A/N: And that's largely the end of Knowledge and Promise. Only the epilogue to go. Sometime soonish, I promise