December 5th – 8am

Danny's head pounded. He groaned and brought up his hands to block out the light. It was warm and muggy, tiny flocks of dust were hovering in the air. Slowly Danny propped himself up on one elbow, which lead to the discovery that his neck was worse than his head, completely stiff from lying on the bare ground.

"What time is it?", he asked, turning around to see his brother again – or still – pacing the room. "Damn!" In less than a second, Danny was on his feet, stopping Jamie mid-step.

"What's wrong?"

"You really need to ask?", Danny inquired, squinting. His brother's eyes were sunken and blood-shot and Danny didn't need to touch his skin to be certain he was running a fever. Jamie needed medical attention or at least bed rest.

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"You needed sleep." Stupid, heroic, foolish little Jamie. Always wanting to prove just how tough he was. Even now, barely conscious and shaking like a thin branch in a storm, he kept up his facade of bravery and endurance. But it would stop now, Danny decided, taking hold of his brother's arm.

"I'm not playing around, kid. You need to sit down."

"No."

"Jamie, don't make me...", Danny dared, half-jokingly, only to have his hand slapped away and receive a truly shocked expression from his brother.

"You wouldn't." Jamie was actually retreating, was he afraid? Scared of his own big brother? Oh hell, what had he done wrong? Sleep deprivation could lead to all kinds of screwed-up emotions, but this reaction was a little extreme, wasn't it? Watching his brother's thin frame intently, Danny stepped back himself, creating a rift between them.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm your brother, man."

"I know", Jamie replied, holding his head between his hands and shaking his head tiredly."Or at least my brain knows."

Come on, just let me help, Danny thought and came closer again. This time, Jamie let him proceed stoically. Hollow eyes followed his every move, but when the Detective tried to sit him down, Jamie again objected.

"I'll rather remain standing, if you don't mind." Half-dead and still the silver tongue of a lawyer. More than a little annoyed, Danny decided to take action, grabbed Jamie by both arms and pulled him down forcefully.

"Actually, I do mind."

"Stop it!" With more power than Danny would have thought possible, Jamie freed himself, not withdrawing back but lunging instead. In a flash, Jamie was a few meters away and Danny was lying on the ground, holding his smacked jaw.

"Why?", Danny asked, slightly dazed. Now his head hurt even more. Wonderful. They were surrounded by enemies in foreign country and in a freaking stronghold of the mob, yet still fighting with each other like they did at home. Not that he could remember their last brawl.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to hit you." Although Danny did kinda get the feeling that that statement was a lie, he let it pass, trying to get through to Jamie.

"Seriously, Jamie, you need to sleep. You look even worse than when you were poisoned and that should count for something."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not!" Danny was angry, the constant pressure and mortal danger getting the best of him. Fine, the little prick wanted it to be that way? He could have it. Sometimes you needed to be cruel to be kind. "You're so far from fine, you wouldn't even recognize it when it hit you in the chest. Now you'll either be reasonable and lie down to take a nap or I'll knock you out. And in case you were wondering, I'm not joking."

"Piss off, Danny." Jamie wasn't backing down, finally showing some backbone. Danny only wished he would have chosen a more convenient time and place to grow into his own. He didn't need this kind of stress on top of the other stuff.

"Enough." Swiftly, he whipped the gun out of his waistband, pointing it at Jamie, who seemed stunned. On some basic level, Danny was equally surprised to what measures he was willing to go to get his way, but he buried his doubts behind a battle-tested wall of fury.

"Sit. Down."

"You won't shoot me." Hell, Jamie didn't even sound certain. What had happened between them that his younger sibling didn't even trust him that far? Danny scowled, flicking off the safety switch, playing on his brother's insecurity.

"Because of you, I was recently shot at, had a building explode in front of me, was kidnapped, threatened and now there's an army outside trying to kill us. Do you really want to try me right now, kid?"

Grudgingly, Jamie gathered his gown around him, taking care that his backside was completely covered by the fabric before he sat down in the corner the furthest away from him. His behavior reminded Danny so much of distraught rape victims that he had to ask.

"Jamie, did something happen? You know, at Wyrdmann's, other than the beatings?" Silence. No eye contact. Arms crossed in front of chest. Denial. Oh, shit.

Immediately, Danny let the gun drop, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. How was he supposed to deal with that? How was Jamie supposed to deal with that? Take a deep breath, Danny told himself, and be a professional. This might be your brother and you might feel like crap because you were one slow son of a bitch when it came to rescuing him, but he needs your help right now. Even if he doesn't want it.

"Tell me, Jamie. Whatever it is, keeping it inside won't help, it will eat you up from the inside."

"Maybe I like to be eaten", Jamie offered after a while, blinking rapidly to stay awake. Danny wanted nothing more to reach out and hug him, yet he knew that it would have been counterproductive.

"Tell me", he repeated patiently.

"You're not my psychologist", Jamie quipped hoarsely, closing himself off again. Of course this wouldn't be easy, things were never easy with Jamie. Danny got up, the gun dangling loosely in his right hand. He approached his brother like one would a caged animal, with slow movements, nonthreatening demeanor and general caution. Jamie's eyes widened as he got closer, but he didn't move away.

"What happened?" Even if he had to ask a million times, Danny promised himself he would find out eventually. And from the way things stood at the moment, they had nothing but time. It was quiet outside, they obviously wanted to wait the situation out and at the moment, Danny couldn't have cared less. He sat down next to Jamie and stared against the wall, trying to resemble a companion.

"Nothing happened", Jamie whispered. Danny waited, knowing that this could not be the whole truth although he fully wished it was. Time stretched out and weighted down on them until it nearly became unbearable. Talk to me!

"That's the problem, you know?" Suddenly Jamie turned around, his voice loud and accusing. This isn't about me, Danny reminded himself, nodding although he had no idea what his little brother was speaking of. He looked so damn young, too young to have the conversation they were about to have.

"The not-knowing. It drives me crazy."

"What happened?"

"I... um, I... there was, he and... I, and I... I was sleeping." Jamie's blue eyes were moistening and Danny couldn't keep himself from reaching out. Flinching, Jamie accepted the comfort and relaxed a little as his big brother draped a strong arm around him.

"He... um, the..., oh, get a grip", Jamie said, biting down on his lip and then continued with a hard look on his face. "I was asleep. It was perhaps the second-last day, I dunno which day exactly because there was no clock and I couldn't tell. So, I was sleeping and then he woke me and my jeans was pooled around my ankles and he was recording it and he was laughing and telling me that it had been good and that I had slept right through it and there was something... some fluid on my boxers and I felt really weird and I still don't have a freaking clue whether he was lying or not, because he could have mixed drugs into my food and I wouldn't have noticed and that sonofabitchmighthaverapedme!"

He stopped, facing his brother as if expecting some kind of rebuke. Danny pressed his brother closer, swallowed and tried to figure out what to answer to a story like that. Jamie's soul was lying open, showing all his wounds and scars. Any mistake and it might never heal again, so Danny decided not to take the high road.

"Jamie, calm down. He lied to you. He tried to mess up your brain, don't let him get to you. He lied. And he's dead."

"Dead?"

"Yeah, dead. Like in annihilated, put down, gotten a bullet right through his skull. I should know, it was me who killed him."

"Dead. You killed him", Jamie said, testing the words, rolling them off his tongue. Danny nodded and tried to look as sincere as possible. He knew that his actions would probably come back to bite him in the ass later, but hopefully Wyrdmann had indeed been killed by Arabella's men during the shooting. Anyways, if it would help his little brother sleep, it was worth the consequences.

"Shot him right between the eyes. I'm only sorry you didn't get to do it yourself."

"No, it's fine. As long as he's dead", Jamie said, smiling thinly. He seemed to believe the story, because unlike Joe and Erin, he'd never been able to tell when Danny was lying, which Danny was really thankful for.

"Sleep?", he tried again, making Jamie chuckle, further convincing Danny that he'd made the right decision.

"Yeah, sounds good." Good, Danny repeated in his mind, feeling how his brother's breathing got even. He didn't dare to move, lest Jamie wake up. Instead he went to methodically clean the gun while watching the door and the window. Would Jamie's fever go down once he was less exhausted? And how much time did they have left before somebody would come charging in?