WhIP

by footfungus

nederlands verhalen over mijn otp

98. Life is Strange 2 Sean and Daniel 7

Every Step of the Way

msmooseberry

Summary:

Now with a destination in mind, the brothers stop at an abandoned cabin in the woods of Oregon to re-establish the connection they once had and learn to work as a team again. However, a trip for supplies to the nearest town reveals that Sean's long-suppressed power has a dangerous side that he never tried to explore, and it is up to Daniel to help him get it under control. But will they have enough time for that before they are forced to leave?

Notes:

elfinglitters, you rock, as always (I kinda wish I named this part after one of those wolf memes tbh)

Chapter 1: Daniel

Chapter Text

The freshly fallen snow is crisp and crunchy under his feet, but it doesn't bring Daniel any joy since his light sneakers are soaked through and act like two miniature freezers. He stopped feeling his toes an hour ago, as well as his fingers. They'll definitely hurt like a bitch when he and Sean finally get somewhere warm in the nearest town. Which is a fifteen-mile walk away from their current hideout, an abandoned cabin they miraculously found in the middle of the woods.

This is the second time they make this trip, the first being two whole weeks prior. They stole some canned food from a couple of stores (luckily, Sean no longer complained when Daniel asked him to cooperate while he created a distraction) and the rest scavenged in the garbage. Who knew people throw away so much good stuff. It still sucks ass they need to travel this far to stock up on supplies, and with the day getting shorter and the weather getting colder it sucks ass even more. Or rather, the icicle that he has in its place right now.

And Sean is in no better shape. He's visibly shivering and shoves his own bare hands deep into the pockets of his battered coat. It doesn't do much really, the old thing's got too many holes in it, same as Daniel's second-hand quilted jacket. They managed to snag both at a charity thrift store in some sad little town near Albany. Just in time for the winter chill. He only wishes they thought of taking gloves too.

There is a way for him to warm up a little though. He looks at his bright pink fingers and concentrates until the air around them ripples with his power. The skin tingles and the sensitivity returns, if only a bit.

'Got cold already?' Sean's thought sounds weak but teasing. He's trudging persistently through the snow a few steps ahead and doesn't turn around. Daniel feels a pang of guilt and dispels the warming wave of energy.

'Nah,' he sends Sean in reply. 'Just thought I saw another squirrel.'

It's something they've been doing for the first two hours or so. They called it 'spot a rodent' or, alternatively, 'spot a bird', a silly game to pass the time that consisted in detecting any signs of wildlife, although there weren't many animals around (and honestly, good for them). If Daniel spotted one first, he snapped a twig or twirled the snow in its vicinity, and if Sean did, he projected him the mental image.

"Dude, it's like our personal Snapchat," Daniel joked.

When they were kids, Sean used to do it all the time, only it was more chaotic and often left Daniel with completely random pictures that flashed in his mind for less than a second. It was pretty convenient, however, when he needed to catch Sean on a lie. Like when he broke one of the toy rockets that had taken Daniel hours to build and couldn't stop thinking about how he dropped it. His flaming cheeks and shifty eyes also gave him away, but that was beside the point when Daniel could literally see it happening.

That was one of the things he probably missed most about their childhood. The unfailing connectedness that tied them together and left no barriers in between. It allowed Daniel to look at the world through Sean's eyes, and Sean to perceive it deeper through Daniel's experience. That's why despite the shitty circumstances and their very uncertain future Daniel is happy to have it back, even if they have to restore their relationship bit by bit. The years that he spent stubbornly blocking Sean out and hating him for following Dad's every rule were the worst, he can finally admit it to himself, along with the fact that he was awfully selfish and chose to ignore Sean's growing struggle to contain his power and the suffering that it brought him in the long run.

If only he pulled his head out of his ass and made a move to make up with Sean earlier, perhaps they wouldn't have found themselves in such deep shit in the first place. But they can't change anything now, not unless one of them suddenly unlocks a new time-travelling skill.

Man, to think of it, being able to rewind time could be so cool.

"Don't know about that, Dan, we'd probably mess up the past even more," Sean comments glumly, and although deep down Daniel kinda feels the same, it makes him want to argue.

"Come on, dude, time travel! We'd be invincible, unstoppable, we'd take down any asshole before they even know what's coming," the idea gets him so excited he misses a thick root that's partially concealed by the snow and stumbles over it but, thankfully, doesn't fall.

Sean's chuckles are soft and breathy and his eyes are full of mirth as he turns to see him straighten up and tug on the straps of the backpack that went askew on his shoulders.

"You were saying, Mr Invincible?" Sean's warm amusement tickles in his chest and Daniel lets this little jibe slide. But flips his brother off nonetheless.

Sean shakes his head and continues down the barely visible path.

The longer they walk, the harder it gets to focus on anything other than dragging their feet through the snow and making sure they don't trip on hidden roots and fallen branches. Their conversation also gets reduced to occasional comments they exchange through their link instead of talking out loud, and even that puts a considerable strain on Sean, to say nothing of visual projections. Daniel doesn't push him.

Over the years Sean learned to suppress this side of his power too, so now Daniel's goal is to help him remaster it. Among other things.

After what happened at the gas station in Washington Daniel became convinced that once Sean regains full control over his abilities, their chances at surviving this living nightmare and not getting caught will be much higher. Unfortunately, he was so eager to have Sean try and take down his mental barrier around people, he persuaded him to give it a go at the soup kitchen near that stupid thrift store. The effect was immediate and left Sean stunned for almost a quarter of an hour, during which Daniel continuously kicked himself for suggesting it so soon in a place that reeked of negativity. He got a fair share of it too, since he refused to let go of Sean's hand until they were far enough from the crowd.

They ended up taking refuge in someone's backyard shed that Daniel broke into without batting an eye, and Sean was too out of it to chastise him for damaging private property. As if he would've cared either way.

Still, Sean's bad reaction made it clear that he wasn't ready to jump back to using his power yet and that they needed somewhere safe to practice at a slower pace.

The shelter in the previous town on Highway 20, however, was decidedly a poor choice. It didn't exactly scream danger but was sketchy as hell. They signed in under fake names with no problems whatsoever, weren't questioned or searched, or anything, which kind of suggested that neither were all the other temporary residents. But Sean was optimistic for once and reasoned that they'd better spend the night there than freeze their balls off in the woods.

Daniel didn't protest. And came to regret it later.

When they got settled on the bunk beds the few folks around didn't pay them any mind, and the whole place gave off a strong 'no one gives a shit who you are and what you do here' vibe. It didn't put him at ease though, and neither did Sean's obvious effort to keep his mind blank in the vicinity of others. Daniel couldn't fall asleep for a while, feeling that he needed to be on high alert, but eventually exhaustion took over him and he practically passed out on the stiff smelly mattress.

Only to jerk awake barely a couple of hours later, with heart thumping heavily in his chest and bones and muscles aching, like they did when he had a sudden growth spurt a couple of years back. His head felt like a disturbed beehive and his clothes was drenched with sweat. He remembers thinking that he must've caught the flu or some serious shit like pneumonia, and how this was absolutely not the time for him to go out of order. Then he looked down from the top bunk, which he'd taken knowing that Sean was still afraid of falling out, and spotted a sleazy-looking dude going through their stuff. He was unsteady on his feet and his hands were shaking badly, but it didn't stop him from yanking the zipper of Sean's backpack open and rummaging inside.

It took Daniel a few seconds to realise that the crackhead was robbing them, and also that the pain and faint nausea he felt were most likely coming from him, or rather from Sean who got hit with the withdrawal symptoms that he had no means to block out while asleep. Daniel got so mad he didn't even think when he seized the fucker with his power and squeezed hard, making him whimper and gasp for breath. The guy didn't understand what was happening and his lost scared eyes were darting helplessly from side to side.

For a moment Daniel thought he could actually feel his fear growing and spreading throughout his body like liquid lead, paralyzing him no worse than Daniel's power. It was oddly thrilling to witness.

Then Sean came around and fumbled off the bed, seriously spooked by the sight that greeted him. He turned his head around, panicked and confused, until his eyes fell on Daniel.

"Dude!" he cried in a loud whisper, then Daniel's temples throbbed with his alarmed, 'What the hell are you doing?'

'He wanted to take our shit,' he closed his fist slowly, and the guy squirmed in his punishing hold, wheezing. Sean reached up to grab his outstretched arm or maybe his shoulder, but stumbled on his own shoes and had to grab the bunk's railing instead. Daniel glanced at him then, noting how sick and weary Sean appeared under the dim flickering lights. Even so, his sharp glare was full of determination.

'Let him go before someone sees you!' Daniel heard him think. And the funny thing is, he wasn't about to comply. Well, not right away at least, but something in the way Sean's order sounded made him do as he said and he loosened his grip just enough for the stupid scumbag to fall to the ground with heaving breaths and scramble away.

The noise from the commotion woke up more people and they had to pack up and leave before they became the centre of everybody's attention. And that's how they found themselves back in the woods, hiking along the highway during the day and huddling for warmth before an open fire in the night. At one point they got picked up by a geologist on her way to Mount Jefferson, who was luckily not too big on talking and accepted Sean's 'lie' about them being on a survivalist trip. If you asked Daniel though, that's precisely what they were doing.

And while they were at it Daniel had no desire to ponder on his actions, nor discuss them at length with Sean, who was pretty bad at hiding his worry, even if he never attempted to start another conversation himself. He also refused to acknowledge how badly he was affected by the state of that unfortunate thief, although that, again, was the only reason they didn't get owned in the end.

On the bright side, Sean didn't give him the cold shoulder like he had last time Daniel used his power to get them out of trouble. And once they came across the old empty house, he agreed to practice with him every day.

It wasn't easy at first, both because Sean was reluctant to train when it was just the two of them (seriously, it was as if he believed that doing it without Dad's supervision counted as a crime or something) and because they grew out of a habit of spending hours connected through their mental link. Besides, to keep the connection strong they needed to have some sort of physical contact, so during all those hours they had to hold hands, which was kinda awkward and restricted Daniel's movements to a certain extent.

And yet, if that was what it took to get Sean back on track with his power, Daniel was ready to put up with the inconvenience. In fact, it pushed him to get better at moving things without lifting his arms and helped them to develop an awesome new technique Daniel couldn't wait to try out when the opportunity would present itself.

He came up with it during their fourth day of isolation, while they were separately checking the perimeter and Sean slipped from one of the foresty slopes by the river. It had rained heavily the other night and the ground was all soppy. Luckily, in his panic Sean automatically reached out to Daniel, projecting the image of wet clumps of earth going from under his feet, and Daniel managed to get to him in time.

The peculiar thing was that when Sean did that Daniel's vision darkened for a bit, and then doubled, so that he could simultaneously see a bunch of logs stacked neatly behind the cabin and the fifteen feet drop that Sean was staring down in terror because the bank was made up entirely of solid rocks. Daniel didn't let him fall. He used his power to pull him up, getting hold of Sean's flailing body before he actually had him in sight. It was amazing. Scary as hell, yes, but absolutely amazing. Up until that moment Daniel always had to have his eyes directly on the thing he wanted to move.

That evening Sean barely spoke, his mind stayed mostly quiet too, but when they went to bed (or rather the mattress from the dismantled bedframe that they locked away in the chilliest room in the house) he clung to him like when they were seven and slept together after watching a horror movie for the first time. Sean insisted he was just cold. Daniel pretended he believed him.

The next day he suggested that Sean should try picking targets for him, someplace that he couldn't see. Sean was skeptical about it at the beginning, but by the end of the second week learned to give him the toughest little challenges, hiding stuff around the house or outside and making Daniel guess where it was, showing him clues one at a time. But what Daniel enjoyed even more was when they stood back to back and Sean guided his power, concentrating on rocks, logs or branches that he had in front of him and that Daniel couldn't glimpse even from the corner of his eye.

Daniel went as far as closing his eyes completely when they did that and relied fully on Sean's sight and choice. It turned out to be unexpectedly liberating, giving up control over his power like that. As long as it was Sean, Daniel didn't mind at all. What made it better still was the pure joy that radiated off his brother every time they successfully completed another self-invented task.

One evening Daniel asked him how he liked it to be the brain behind the greatest force of nature (Sean snorted at his wording then, but hey, Daniel was hardly exaggerating). Instead of telling him Sean took his hand and pulled him into the memory he had of their recent training. It was so real Daniel wanted to pinch himself to make sure he was still sitting with Sean by the burning wood stove and not standing in the yard.

Aside from the image of boulders flying in a neat formation, the memory was alive with the sound of running water and tree branches creaking in the wind. It carried the smell of damp rocks littering the river bank and leaves rotting on the soily ground. It even recreated the sensation of the early winter chill creeping under the thin layers of fabric that covered his body and the bite of the frost that sent tiny pinpricks through his freezing fingers. And beyond all that Sean's memory made him feel a powerful pulse of energy that rushed in his head and seeped into his bones, making them vibrate and itch for some sort of release. Daniel recognised it in an instant, but what he didn't expect was to sense immense elation, and also deep trust and acceptance along with it. This blazing ball of emotions burned so bright and honest, Daniel was rapidly getting overwhelmed, but waited until Sean pulled back himself.

Never before had his brother been so open with him, or maybe Daniel had just been too self-centred to notice. Either way, that projection was not like any other and made him feel closer to Sean than he had been in a long while, which was exhilarating, but at the same time drowned him with guilt.

Because no matter how many hours they spend with their minds merged together, Daniel still deliberately conceals some of his thoughts from Sean.

He blames the force of habit, mostly, and his stupid cowardice that swells and grows like a tumour the longer they stay like this, two against the world. Daniel is afraid of what the future has in store for them, and of being separated from Sean, only this time with no option of getting things back to how they were. He's afraid of Sean finding out just how far he is ready to go to not let that happen and that one day he will look at him the way he did at the gas station and decide that he doesn't want him to be his brother anymore. But most of all, Daniel is afraid of letting Sean down and that he will get hurt again, either because Daniel does something wrong or doesn't have the guts to do what's right when the moment comes.

That's why he often lies awake at night, with Sean snoring softly beside him, and struggles to drive away the scary thoughts that swarm in his overactive brain. They remind him that even with all his power one fuck-up will be enough to lose the most important person in his life, for good. Daniel knows it might be stupid and unfair to hide his fears like that, especially since he encourages Sean to drop his mental blocks and put his faith in him before anyone else. But he doesn't want to be a burden, not when Sean badly needs someone to rely upon. Someone brave and confident, someone who's got their shit together. He wants to be that person for him.

Maybe then Sean will need Daniel just as much as Daniel needs him.

For another quarter of an hour they continue trudging through the snow in silence. Daniel wouldn't call it oppressive, they are cold and tired, and no hike inspires you to be overly chatty or contemplative. But in the last few days he's become so accustomed to the constant buzz of Sean's thoughts in his mind, both abstract and fully-formed ones, that their continuous absence makes him a bit uneasy.

At least the town can't be too far away now, there's that small ravine with a dried up stream they crossed last time, which is less than a mile away from their destination. Daniel sighs in relief.

Then he starts thinking of what they agreed to get there, aside from food, obviously. The list includes more toiletries (they've almost run out of the soap and toothpaste they took from the motel), flashlights (candles are sure cool and cozy, but not very helpful in the wind outside), and a sewing kit (their clothes keeps getting new holes and tears and they can't possibly carry a whole wardrobe). Of course, with their current budget they'll have to steal it all.

There is, however, one more thing that could come in handy. Something that will cheer them up during the eerie quiet evenings at the cabin and brighten up their long boring walks. If they are going to take everything else, they'll definitely be able to snag themselves a nice little-

'No, Daniel, we're not stealing an mp3 player, or anything that's not absolutely necessary,' Sean's sharp thought catches him off guard, but then he chuckles and concentrates on his reply.

'Why not? You miss music,' it's true because Daniel often hears Sean humming his favourite tunes under his breath and lets some lyrics run in his head on a loop. Not that Daniel doesn't like it, he just can't pass up the opportunity to tease him for it. 'I do enjoy your one-man concerts, but I gotta tell you this, bro, you sound nothing like those sad British dudes you love so much.'

At this Sean glances back to send him a mellow glare.

'Like your taste in music is so great,' he huffs and stomps his feet harder, leaving deep imprints in the snow. 'Most of the stuff you listen to doesn't even have any words!'

'Yeah, cause it's more relaxing that way,' Sean's indignation feels like a prickly woolen blanket, itchy but pleasantly warm.

'A bunch of booming repetitive sounds?' Daniel can almost hear his eye-roll.

'Yep, helps me to unwind, unlike those gloomy lines that'd get anyone depressed,' they reach the ravine as they bicker and Sean carefully goes down to where the stream runs during the warmer seasons. It's not that big and is dried up at the moment, but the rocks and pebbles can still be slippery with all this fucking snow.

'What lines?' the question holds the snarky bite that's just so Sean, passively aggressive and ready to prove him wrong. Daniel grins in anticipation.

'You know, those where a guy goes on and on about flipping coins and making crappy decisions,' okay, he might be simplifying it a bit, but Sean's hot irritation that washes over him is totally worth it.

'It's not about that, it's-,' Sean's thought gets cut off as he lets out a short yelp, and Daniel reacts faster than he comprehends the situation, grabbing Sean firmly with his power and not letting him plummet to the hard uneven ground.

They stand in stunned silence for a couple of seconds, then Sean turns slowly and Daniel gets his soft 'Thanks' that sounds a tad subdued. Daniel gives him a mock salute.

'Always at your service,' he sends before they resume walking. 'Despite your poor taste in music,' he adds with a devious smirk and goes past Sean to lead the way.

He doesn't go too far though because after only a few steps his foot gets lodged between two boulders and he falls like a sack of potatoes.

"Oh shit, Daniel! Are you alright?" Sean drops down by his side and helps him, mindful of his stuck ankle.

"Ow, fuck, no, not really," Daniel groans, scrambling up onto his hands and knees and staring at the damned rocks like they are his personal enemies. Well, they kind of are. "Hurts like hell," he hisses through his teeth and Sean winces at the same time as he tries to pull himself free, probably feeling his pain as if it were his own. Shit. His foot won't budge.

Daniel narrows his eyes, focuses, and the stubborn rocks that are holding him captive crack and explode. Sean gasps.

"Dude, what were you thinking! They went all over the place, you could've hurt yourself even more," he complains while carefully pulling him into a standing position, and when Daniel sways and nearly falls back down guides him to a half-rotten tree trunk that lies across the frozen stream bed. 'Come on, we need to check your ankle,' he makes Daniel sit down, pulls off his backpack and kneels before him. Daniel's cheeks are burning, and it's not entirely from the cold.

So much for acting cool and tough. He ended up falling like a fucking five-year-old.

'Stop it, I could've fallen worse if it were not for you,' Sean frowns up at him, and this time Daniel isn't too excited to feel his scolding disapproval. But he makes sure to keep his head clear of any more self-deprecating thoughts while Sean inspects his foot. He doesn't really need to ask him if it hurts and how much when he presses at it and bends it this way and that. Daniel flinches a couple of times, but it never gets to the point of being unbearable.

Finally, Sean gives him his verdict.

"Nothing seems to be broken, but it might swell soon," he stands up, brushes wet snow from his knees and settles beside Daniel on the rough bark. "You gotta put something cold on it like-," he looks around and considers their surroundings. Daniel reaches into his backpack and fetches the half-empty metal canteen that has chilled to the ice-cold level while travelling for hours in the current weather.

"Like this?" he shakes it, making the water inside splosh around.

"Yeah, that'll do, I guess," Sean says, then hurries to add, "Just press it where it hurts most and hold it there for several minutes."

"Thanks, doc," Daniel snorts humourlessly and follows the simple instructions, meanwhile watching Sean reach for his backpack and pull out a pack of cigarettes he found in the cabin. It's some strong shit that smells terribly, but Daniel doesn't stop him when he lights one up. The metal case of Dad's old lighter glimmers weakly under the thin white winter sun.

'Let's rest here for a bit,' Daniel hears and nods in silent agreement. He could really use a break.

Sean breathes out a cloud of acrid smoke and Daniel can imagine the unhappy scowl Dad would certainly be wearing if he were to see him right now. After all, Sean has always been his pride and joy, a perfectly obedient son, a responsible diligent student, a promising rising athlete who made track his second home. He could've probably got a sports scholarship in the future. Instead he's stuck here with him. In these woods, in this life.

What a waste really.

'I think you would've kicked ass in baseball,' Daniel blinks and turns to Sean, but he's not looking at him. He stares at the lighter in his open palm. 'You used to be a big fan once, remember?' he glances up but quickly averts his gaze, as if afraid of his reaction.

'Yeah, things change, I guess,' Daniel doesn't want to talk about it, nor share how bitter he gets at the mention of it. But after Sean groped his foot for several minutes their connection became stronger, so there is little he can do about it. At least it means their training is paying off.

'Dad was never seriously against you playing, and if you only gave it a chance, maybe-' Sean raises his eyes. They are full of this naive, stomach-turning conviction in the benefits of sticking to the rules and bending under every possible authority.

"Well, I didn't, okay?" he says out loud and jerks his shoulder in irritation. "Just drop it, will you?"

Daniel did like baseball a lot when he was a kid. It was one of the few things he and Dad actually had in common. They played every weekend when they lived in Beaver Creek, and watched the games on the living room couch, cheering and jumping when their team was winning and booing and throwing chips at the screen when it wasn't. Meanwhile Sean watched them and scribbled away in his album.

In Seattle Dad got too busy opening his own garage and then keeping it afloat, so their shared hobby quickly became a lesser priority. The new school happened to have a baseball team though, and the first year after he and Sean transferred Daniel liked to entertain the idea that he could join it one day. But ever since he lost control over his power at Chris' house and sent both him and his dad to the hospital, Dad kept talking him out of anything that required applying serious physical strength and throwing stuff around.

It was kind of shitty of him, especially with how supportive he was when Sean got on the track team. And he managed to make it worse by suggesting that Daniel do the same. Of course, Daniel refused and somewhere in the middle of the shouting match that followed told Dad that he couldn't care less about sports and that track could go fuck itself. It got him grounded for a week, but he never changed his mind.

So when the next year there were baseball tryouts for the upcoming season and Dad tentatively asked him if he wanted to go, Daniel stubbornly said no. So what if he maybe, probably did want to go, by that point refusing was a matter of principle.

Does he regret it now? Not really. Because, suppose he managed to become a star player and beat record upon record, like Sean did, it would've simply been another thing that got ruined after the disaster at Derek's party. Besides, if he joined the team, he would've had to constantly suppress his power, like Sean had to, and look where it got him. So, honestly, fuck it.

Sean frowns at him and Daniel feels he's about to say something that won't lead them anywhere good. Daniel doesn't wait for him to do it. He puts away his canteen, stands up, ignoring the dull pain in his ankle, and takes a few experimental steps. Luckily, his limp is not too obvious.

"Let's go, or it'll get dark before we even get there," he mutters mostly to himself and starts walking. Sean calls after him, saying they should put a bandage on his ankle, but Daniel doesn't stop, nor turns around, so Sean has no choice but to follow him.

Daniel purposefully keeps a couple of feet between them, only this distance is not enough to get away from the anxious drone of Sean's mind. He's nervous and uneasy, convinced that he has offended him and that Daniel is now mad. He is not, and he could reassure his brother, but he's not exactly in the mood.

The rest of the way is thankfully uneventful, although they do reach town when the sun is already starting to set. It means they'll have to hurry if they don't want to be walking back late at night when the temperature drops even lower.

The town is, for lack of better words, a shithole in the middle of nowhere. It has a single convenience store, the one at the only gas station, and a bunch of small shops along what Daniel assumes is the 'main street' here, which is shorter than their Lame Avenue in Seattle by half, if not more. There are also a bar and a diner, inconveniently situated at the opposite sides of town but with equally well-stuffed dumpsters. Last time they got most of their provisions from there.

Of course, having to look for food in the trash felt disgusting, but beggars can't be choosers, or whatever. So they smothered their pride and searched the smelly containers as best they could, which was surprisingly worth it. To lift up their spirits later Daniel said that they should call themselves Super Raccoon Bros from now on. Sean liked the idea so much he drew a one-page comic about the adventures of two raccoons clad in their hoodies, who are having the time of their lives as they dive into huge piles of trash.

Before going for the dumpsters though, they raid the convenience store. Sean understandably feels nervous, since the place resembles the damned bear station in Washington quite a bit, but they manage to get almost everything they need and get out of there without being spotted by the cashier. The lonely shabby camera that's supervising the store is also not a problem after Daniel discreetly puts it out of commission. He doesn't even look at it when he does thanks to Sean who helps him through their link, even if it makes him uncomfortable.

Oh well, he'll have to get used to it some day. Stealing and breaking the law. And if Daniel plays his cards right, maybe he'll learn to enjoy it. Because, seriously, after how much they've been fucked over, getting stuff they need to survive by any available means is perfectly justified. So what difference does it make if they have some fun in the process?

According to Sean, a huge one. He tells him that before they head in opposite directions at the end of the main street and goes as far as taking a promise from him not to do anything stupid while he's alone. Daniel happily gives him one, keeping his mind purposefully blank and his crossed fingers deep in his pocket.

They decide to go dumpster-diving separately to speed things up a little and leave town before it starts to snow, because the rapidly darkening sky is full of heavy low-hanging clouds that can't wait to pile the ground with more white shit. So while Sean checks out the containers behind the bar, Daniel's in charge of the ones by the diner.

And he will go there, right after he drops by a certain shop they passed a few minutes ago. The electronics shop.

It's very small and doesn't have the vastest choice of gadgets, but Daniel's needs are not that great either. Once he saunters inside, with the hood strategically pulled over his head, he manages to locate his future prize in under thirty seconds. The mp3 player he's been thinking about for more than a month sits in a row of identical devices on one of the stands in the back.

Sean might say it's not necessary, but Daniel is certain he'll be glad he took it when he gets to listen to his favourite music again. He doesn't still carry his earphones around for nothing, right?

Of course, stealing it will be trickier than cup noodles and canned soup from the convenience store. At this hour he is the only customer in the shop, which is obviously nearing its closing time. Aside from that, owing to the kind of goods it sells, the place has the total of three cameras hanging above the register and in two different corners. Daniel curses under his breath.

And that's when the shop owner addresses him from behind the counter.

"How may I help you, young man?" his voice is both polite and condescending, which makes Daniel bristle.

"Oh, I'm just looking for batteries, we've ran out and Dad made me go buy some," he throws over his shoulder, not turning enough for the guy to see his face. There is a sound of movement behind him, and Daniel walks further down the isle.

"The batteries are right here," the guy says, stopping not far from the counter, and apparently waits for Daniel to come up to him. "What kind do you need?"

"Uh, I don't know," he hesitates. He almost reached the shelf. A couple more feet and he'll probably be able to snatch the player with his power without the guy noticing. But the cameras... Daniel bites his lip. "The regular ones, for the flashlight," he says, feigning nonchalance.

"I've got them all stored in one place, come take a look," damn, the fucker won't let him wander any further, will he? Daniel scowls down at his feet. His hands ball into fists as he turns, and in that moment the two cameras on his sides break with pitiful little pops and cracks. "Oh, my goodness, what was that!"

Daniel hides his grin and looks around for show with a fake lost expression.

The man starts to fuss, running to the camera that's closest to him, meanwhile Daniel takes the remaining steps that separate him from the shelf with the players. A practiced flip of the wrist and a compact grey box lands into his waiting hand, and then quickly disappears from sight, tucked neatly behind the waistband of his jeans. Score.

But Daniel's triumph is short lived. In the next second his vision jumps and swims, making him sway on his feet and stumble into the nearest stand. Toasters and blenders topple over and fall, creating a hell lot of noise, which is immediately followed by the yelling of the enraged shop owner, but Daniel hardly gives it any attention. The picture before him doubles and past the cheap linoleum littered with broken appliances he's suddenly seeing a dark alley, poorly lit by the neon lights of the bar. And in that shitty lighting he makes out three figures advancing menacingly towards him.

Towards Sean.

The realisation freezes the blood in his veins, then lights it on fire, urging Daniel to take action, right this instant. He jerks away from the electronics guy who looks ready to punch him, or grab him probably, to make him pay for the damage. Daniel doesn't give a fuck. He shoves him out of his way with his power and jumps over the mess he made on the floor, rushing out of the shop as fast as his throbbing ankle lets him.

He needs to get to Sean, now.

In his hurry Daniel completely forgets about the camera above the register, whose little red light burns bright and steady, recording everything within its scope.

It has started to snow outside and Daniel has to blink away the annoying wet flakes that get in his eyes and face. But no matter how much the sight of the road before him gets blurred by the stupid weather, the image of the dark alley never goes away. In fact, the closer he gets to the place, huffing and panting in his struggle to keep the fast pace, the clearer it becomes. Daniel can now distinguish the ugly leers on each of the creepy dudes' faces, hear the snow crunch under their feet, and even smell the thick alcohol stench coming off of them. As if that's not unsettling enough, with each leaping step Daniel takes he can feel Sean's growing fear with higher intensity. It gets him so frantic he doesn't even think to try and use his power from a distance like he did when Sean was slipping off the edge by the river.

The slurred angry voice of the guy who steps up to him comes to Daniel somewhat muffled and distorted, as if through a thick mass of water.

"What's a dirty thug like you doin' here, huh? Stealing shit?" he says, then glances at his cronies and continues, "Gotta teach this little thief a lesson, don't ya think?"

And much louder come Sean's madly spinning thoughts that go 'This is bad,' 'I'm so screwed,' 'Daniel, please, be nearby, please,' and the loudest one 'I gotta get out of here!' that pounds in his head like a hammer again and again. Daniel's temples throb with an unfamiliar sharp pain that's so strong it almost makes him stop. But the bar's neon sign is right at the street corner, so Daniel pushes through the immense discomfort and sprints the rest of the way with only a slight limp.

Then he catches a flash of something pointy and metal in Sean's projection. Clenched in one of the drunks' hands is a fucking knife. Before he can fully sense the dread that comes with this discovery Daniel's doubled vision finally blends back into a single horrifying picture that appears before him as he dives into the back alley where he knows the dumpsters are.

Sean's standing pressed into one of them, thoroughly shaken and sickly pale under the blinking purple-blue light, with dark blood trickling from his nose and dripping down his chin. His eyes are open wide in horror and fixed on the three assholes who keep him trapped. They have their backs to Daniel, but he doesn't need to see their faces for what he does next.

The two fuckers on the sides get it first, seized by Daniel's unyielding power and smashed into the grimy brick walls of the alley so fast they don't even get to make any noise aside from that of air being kicked out of their lungs, and after they fall to the ground they don't move to get up. The third scumbag turns around then and Daniel zeroes in on him, noting a peculiar dazed look on his face, like he doesn't quite comprehend where he is and what is happening around him. There is no shock, nor anger, nor even mild surprise, his eyes are just blank. But his fingers are still wrapped around the knife, and when Daniel sees the blade reflect the unnatural neon light he involuntary pictures it slashing at his brother, sinking into his skin, hurting him, taking his life. And something inside Daniel snaps.

The ground beneath his feet trembles and cracks, the air thickens and grows heavy with the livid energy that seeps out of him and fills the space between him and this pathetic excuse for a human being. Daniel twists his wrist, this time expecting the muffled crunch of bone wrapped in muscles that resembles the sound a chicken wing makes when you break it in half, and the knife drops uselessly into the dirty snow. The pain seems to bring the guy out if his stupor because he jerks and blinks at Daniel with more clarity in his gaze, then opens his mouth, ready to scream. That's when Daniel lifts him off the ground, constricting his whole body and making him desperately try to take at least one breath.

He's actually a pretty sorry sight. Hanging two feet above the ground, stripped of his arrogance and any sense of superiority and power he imagined he had. He is completely at Daniel's mercy, terrified of the unexpected retribution. And Daniel doesn't feel sorry for him at all.

Does the world really need someone like this? Someone who jumps at the opportunity to threaten and hurt innocent people who can't defend themselves. Someone who'd gladly ruin another person's life and then go grab a beer with his shitty pals. Someone who believes that he'll easily get away with it.

The man lets out a low strangled whine as Daniel compresses him harder.

The world is full of jerks like him, why not rid it of this one in particular?

"Daniel, no!" Sean's voice cuts through the deafening silence, and his concentrated thought thunders in Daniel's head, 'Stop it!'

Daniel doesn't want to. Not really. But when Sean gets closer and grabs his hand, a strong hot wave rushes through him and feels like a punch in the gut. The barely breathing body falls down with a loud thump. Just like the other two, he doesn't move to get up.

'Daniel, look at me,' this thought is much softer. Sean's slightly shaking fingers land on his cheeks and his tense pale face blocks the sight of the motionless heaps of limbs and clothes on the ground. Blood is smeared messily across his lips and stains his cheek after he wiped it in a hurry. Daniel blinks several times and focuses on Sean's eyes with some difficulty. 'We need to get out of here,' he hears next and finds himself nodding a bit on autopilot, letting Sean drag him out of the alley and across the street, then through some backyards, until they reach the treeline and run into the woods.

By that time he regains his composure and helps Sean fish out the flashlights they stole at the convenience store from under a layer of soup and ravioli cans crammed haphazardly in his backpack. They are too riled up to speak though, and the track back, as cumbersome and lengthy as it is, passes without them exchanging a single word.

Only Daniel feels that there is something heavy on Sean's mind, and it's not solely the fact that he witnessed Daniel getting close to killing a guy again. No, it's something else.

He gets to find out what when they take a break under the small bridge that's roughly an hour away from their cabin. It didn't take long for the adrenaline to wear off, and after that happened the added load of the supplies weighed down their every step. The falling snow didn't make it any easier for them either. So when they stop they are panting and sweating like they've just run a marathon. Hell, if the time it took them to travel this distance were actually measured by some stuck up sports professionals, they would've totally been awarded some gold. Although Daniel's would've probably been a paralympic one, his ankle is on fire and most likely won't let him move for the next several days after this crazy run. He can bet the toughest track practice Sean ever had was nothing compared to it.

All it takes is for them to stop moving and they sink to the ground in complete and utter exhaustion. Damn do they need a breather. Still, they might be sufficiently warmed up for now, but the night frost is not going to hold back on them if they stay here long. Daniel wants to communicate this thought to Sean, too tired and out of breath to attempt speaking, but Sean turns to him and after a moment's hesitation takes his sweaty palm in his.

'I think I did something very bad,' Daniel hears and lets out a short incredulous laugh. Out of the two of them, it's obviously him who did something- 'No, listen, Dan, I think I- I brainwashed those guys,' Sean's grip tightens and his expression turns grave and a tad distressed. Daniel gulps nervously and shifts on the hard damp ground to properly face him, concentrating.

'How do you know that?' he asks, genuinely curious.

'When they came at me, I could hear their thoughts, I, I didn't block them cause I hoped I could get away once someone got distracted, but they- They were about to get really violent and I panicked, and all I could think about was how I wanted to get out of there, you know?' Daniel does, he heard it perfectly clear through their link at the time. Sean nods and his stream of consciousness continues. 'Then, suddenly, I don't know how, but their minds just shut down, like someone flipped a switch, and then, it's crazy, but they started thinking the same thing, that they- that they wanted to get out of there, it was so, like hearing an echo in an empty room, Dan, I got so scared-'

"Holy shit! Dude, are you telling me you can do mind control? That's so cool!" Daniel exclaims loudly and grabs Sean's cold hand with both of his, shaking it up and down in excitement.

"Cool? Daniel, are you insane, what if I left them with some serious brain damage, what if that's exactly what I did to everybody at the party?" he says with a deeply concerned frown.

Daniel remembers the hot tingling sensation he feels when Sean gets particularly pissed at him, and the harsh crippling headache that came out of nowhere right before he reached Sean today, and the burning wave that forced him to let Sean's attacker go when he told him to. Could that be what Sean is talking about?

Sean grimaces, reading his suspicions in a beat, and tries to yank his hand out of his firm hold. Daniel stubbornly doesn't let him, even as Sean's mind pulses with stinging self-hate and remorse.

"Hey, come on, it's not that big a deal-"

"I did it to you too, didn't I? God, did I make you-? Back in Seattle, did I make you-?" Sean can't bring himself to finish that question, his breathing quickens and becomes erratic and Daniel realises that he's going into a panic attack as the ugly memories of that night at Derek's house flash in his head.

"No," he says firmly, pulling Sean closer and wrapping an arm around him, which is a bit tricky with the backpacks still on their shoulders, but he needs to comfort him somehow. "No, Sean, you didn't, trust me, I would know," his words don't seem to be working because Sean shakes his head and jerks back, trying to put distance between them. Daniel decides to change tactics and comes up with another way to calm him down. If he's careful, it might work even better.

He lets Sean go but at the same time releases his power and molds it into a dense impenetrable dome that closes over their heads and shelters them from the wind and all the sounds of the outer world. It takes Daniel quite a bit of strength and focus, which is hard in his current wiped out state, but he's persistent. And it does seem to work. Bit by bit Sean's hectic breathing and his agitated mind slow down, as Daniel transmits to him one simple truth – right here beside him he is perfectly safe and doesn't need to be afraid of anything, including what he can do, because unlike others Daniel can take it. More than that, he's ready to help him get it under control.

Sean blinks at him with a look that combines wonder and apprehension.

'Dan, I don't think it's a good idea,' his thought feels unusually solid, almost palpable in the power-enclosed space, and Daniel wishes he could uphold the dome longer but it's the first time he does it and it takes a lot from him so he lets it go. Cold air rushes in and immediately creeps under his clothes, chilling his damp sweaty skin and making him shiver.

He scrambles to his feet, limping a bit, then helps Sean, giving his heavy backpack a little boost with his power.

'It's a great idea, you'll see,' he sends with unwavering confidence and starts walking. 'You coming? I don't want to spend all night in the woods.'

Sean grumbles something under his breath, his disgruntlement familiarly tickling at Daniel's temples, and soon falls into step beside him.

Looks like their training is going to get a lot more interesting in the next couple of weeks.

Chapter 2: Sean

Notes:

Here's a playlist where I put the songs I listened to while I wrote about the bros.

Chapter Text

'Ready?' Sean sends out as he watches Daniel square his shoulders. He's panting slightly from the effort to stand straight but his eyes are bright with stubborn determination and his lips stretch into a cocky lopsided grin.

'Bring it on!' Sean hears him loud and clear before his grip on Daniel's mind wavers and the connection between them is cut off abruptly by the barrier Daniel puts up way too fast. It's no less efficient though, because when Sean tries to reach out to him next he gets rebuffed. Not verbally but in an uncanny, almost physical fashion.

And while Sean has become pretty familiar with the sensation over the past few years, and these last several days that they spent actively training, it still stirs up the memory of the first time Daniel did it on purpose, deliberately resisting Sean's attempt to establish a mental link. It happened just a couple of months after they moved to Seattle, where everything was foreign, confusing and difficult to get used to, especially Dad's new, much stricter rules. Daniel never quite accepted them, but Sean didn't expect that he would shut him out as well. And that it would hurt so much.

He doesn't get to dwell on it now. Not when Daniel raises three snowballs in the air and takes a firm stance in front of his snowman, a freaky two-headed snow-ogre armed with a string-less bow and a bunch of sticks for arrows wedged into its back. Sean might not be able to read Daniel's thoughts at the moment, but he can feel the buzz of energy that his brother manipulates without batting an eye, the force that he knows can bend metal, make cameras explode and break human bones. The power that Daniel readily gives up control over and hands it to Sean, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

Only that's not what they are practicing today. Not exactly.

Sean steps a little to the left, shielding his own snowman, which is supposed to be a wizard with a long branch for staff and a dirty rag from the house wrapped around it to represent a mantle. It's half the size of Daniel's and has received three direct hits already, so its initially lumpy form has turned even more disfigured. That's why Sean better not let it get hit again.

He takes a deep breath and concentrates, clenching his hands into fists to hide a slight nervous tremor.

What he did to those drunks back in town seriously scared him. He had no idea he could do something like that, and honestly, would rather stay in the dark about this fucked up side of his power. Daniel, however, couldn't be more excited. Once they returned to the cabin he kept making suggestions as to how they could explore it and put it to good use in the future. He wanted Sean to start training right away, and it was a real challenge to make him see reason and stay inside for a little while, since his twisted ankle had to heal properly. But when has his brother ever listened to him.

As soon as Daniel's limp got marginally better Sean found himself roped into a new routine he came up with, insisting that Sean should use his unexpected and completely unpredictable skill on him. Needless to say, Sean wasn't too stoked about the idea, he still isn't, but Daniel can be very persuasive when he sets his mind on something. He wasn't even fazed by Sean's concern for his safety, nor his uncertainty that using it successfully on Daniel would guarantee it would work the same way on anyone else. Daniel dismissed it all with a scoff.

"If you manage to make me do stuff, everybody else will be totally done for," he said with quite a bit of arrogance, which didn't change the fact that he was probably right. Not that it made Sean feel any better about the whole thing.

Well, at least it seems Daniel was telling the truth when he assured him that he hadn't pushed him to do anything that Daniel didn't want himself.

The thing is, although Sean does his best to get into Daniel's head, he still barely manages to break past his mental walls, let alone bend his will to his liking. And even when he gets close, he can tell that it's because Daniel doesn't seriously want to fight him and doesn't go all out on him. If he did, Sean doubts he would be able to do anything about it, like when Daniel held him pressed against the living room couch back at home.

Sean knows how strong Daniel really is compared to him. Which has to mean that at Derek's party Sean couldn't possibly force him to-

"Think fast, Megamind!" Daniel's shout jerks him out of his momentary daze, as well as the snowball that zooms past his shoulder and smashes into his battered wizard. "Come on, bro, is that all you got? Put up a little fight!" his loud voice carries a mocking lilt and Sean scowls at the hulking white abomination behind his brother's back. So far he's only managed to get it once.

Two more snowballs head his way at a decent speed. Sean sees them move in his peripheral vision because his eyes are glued to Daniel's outstretched arms, which is more of a courtesy on his part after he's learned to move things without any additional hand gestures. Sean senses his power propelling the little globes through the air, his intent directing them towards the target, and he seizes it, focusing on one single thought and channeling it to Daniel as persistently as he can, 'Hit the ugly snow-ogre.'

A few seconds pass with the snowballs frozen in mid-air between them. Daniel is resisting, so Sean decides to push, thinking 'Hit it!' more urgently until he catches sight of Daniel's trembling arms and feels his head start to pound. Then the pounding turns into throbbing, amplified by a phantom burn in his own arms, and he's about to stop when Daniel gives in and the two-headed snowman receives a fatal blow that knocks off both of its heads. The other snowball swerves off course though and smashes into the side of the house, right above the warning 'Keep Out Wolves Inside' that Daniel carved with the pocket knife he'd found in one of the rooms.

Sean stares at the white spot in silent amazement, realising that Daniel must've gained some of his control back at the last moment. He glances at Daniel in time to see him sink down to his knees, shaking a little. Sean's heart leaps in his throat and he runs to him on unsteady feet through the snow.

"Daniel!" he stumbles on the last step and barely holds himself upright. "Sh-shit, are you okay?" he stutters from worry and touches Daniel's shoulder.

"Huh, you're so easy to trick," Daniel pants out, not raising his head. Sean frowns.

"What are you-?" is all he has the chance to say before he is yanked down by the sides of his unzipped jacket and pushed on his back right beside his 'poor, suffering' cheating dick of a brother.

"You're way too naive, dude," Daniel's smug face is smiling down at him, and the gap between his front teeth is not as obvious as when he was ten but still gives him a dorky look.

"I'm not, I thought you were hurt," Sean shoves him aside and makes an attempt to sit up but Daniel doesn't let him, clambering on top.

"And that's what brought you down!" he whoops in silly triumph. Sean rolls his eyes and squirms to topple him over but fails.

"Dan, stop it, you-," then his gaze lands on a massive snowball, previously acting as the snow-ogre's torso, floating above his head. "No, no you don't- Don't you dare!" he starts squirming more actively, but to no avail, Daniel has him firmly trapped underneath him.

The snowball begins its descent and Sean does the only thing he can think of in his current position – he squints his eyes shut and throws his arms up and over his face.

Daniel chuckles and Sean prepares to feel cold wet clumps against his skin. Instead his head tingles with a hot rush of energy that radiates off his brother and he hears a muted 'pop' followed by a shower of tiny icy droplets raining down on him. He cracks one eye open, then the other and sees a cloud of snowflakes that the giant snowball apparently got reduced to.

"Told you, you're too easy to trick," Daniel smiles down at him. Sean stares back with mixed feelings.

"You're an idiot," he says at last, absently noting a dull ache in his temples, then swats Daniel's thigh hard enough to make him yelp. "I've had enough of your tricks, let's go back inside."

"Fine, jeez, you savage, that'll definitely leave a bruise," Daniel grumbles as he climbs to his feet and offers Sean a hand, which he grudgingly accepts and then heads straight for the veranda, shaking off snow from his backside as he goes.

"Serves you right," Sean throws over his shoulder, climbing up the few steps. Daniel huffs behind him. "Hey, grab the logs, we burned the last ones in the morning," he says, nodding at the pile they left beside the glass doors where snow wouldn't dampen the wood.

"Yeah, yeah," Daniel makes three logs fly into his arms and walks inside the house after Sean slides the door open. "So what's broadcasting on Station Sean today?" he asks, dumping the chopped wood on the floor. "Eating canned shit from the dumpsters again, or giving our fishing skills another try?"

Yesterday he got really grumpy after Sean made him chop it with a handy axe left behind in the backyard, instead of letting him use his power to do all the work. 'No one's out here, Sean, what's the point!' He can pout as much as he likes, it's worth them having all their limbs intact.

"Dude, we suck at fishing, I don't want to get soaked and freezing out there again," Sean sighs. They've run out of food they stole at the convenience store, and dumpster-diving didn't give them a lot of options, but at least there was something. Be it something as tasteless as the canned ravioli. No wonder so many ended up in the trash.

"Oh but now we'll have a nice roaring fire waiting for us, right?" Daniel says in an overly cheerful tone, stuffing the wood into the stove.

"Yep, we sure will," Sean mutters and goes to the bathroom to get the pan and start cooking. He isn't having any of Daniel's attitude until he's had like three cups of hot water and some food in him. Plain water makes him want to gag, especially on an empty stomach, but it's still better than that old scotch they found in the pantry. True, that shit warmed them up in an instant but the taste was just vile.

'And I wouldn't mind another shot right now,' Sean hears Daniel's thought, followed by a chuckle from the living room.

Right, they're still connected after the practice, and since Daniel's barrier is down again they can read each other no problem. At least when they are no more than three feet apart. It wears off eventually, so each day they need to hold hands when they begin.

'And I wouldn't mind a not-broken window in here,' he sends back, filling the basin with water they got from the river earlier, pouring some into a pan and into a small brass kettle. They'll need to boil it all properly. Daniel grumbles something unintelligible but Sean gets a clear 'Asshole' through their link.

Not that Sean can't guess Daniel's general state of mind without it, he's learned to do that in the years they were on a no-speaking basis for weeks at a time. Plus Daniel's never been too discreet with his emotions, and in the evenings it does get kinda depressing here. Makes Sean wish they had a pet, a dog maybe, like that pup they saw at the gas station in Washington. Perhaps they should've taken her with them. Then they could've been a real pack.

"You done daydreaming?" Daniel speaks suddenly from the door, startling him a little. "The fire's on."

"Yeah, great," Daniel studies him for a bit, nods and shuffles back into the living room, then goes to the small bedroom.

When Sean opens another identical can he hears him fumbling with the radio. There's nothing but white noise, the thing was hardly working before but now it's definitely on its last legs. And each time Daniel turns the dial it sends a sharp spark of needle-like pain through Sean's head.

"Daniel, cut it out already, that shitty radio is dead!" Daniel stops and Sean tries to rub his temples as discreetly as possible. He fails, of course.

"Got another headache?" Daniel comes back into the room and sits down on the table, lifting the mug and some other small junk that's lying there out of his way.

"It's just our training, it'll pass," ravioli plop into the pan with an unappetising squelching sound. Sean hits the bottom of the can a few times for good measure to dislodge the pieces that got stuck there.

"Hey, Sean? And what if you can catch radio waves and like, hear the stuff they're saying in your head?"

The question is so ridiculous Sean pauses and turns around to stare at Daniel with skepticism written all over his face.

"Seriously? Dude, that's not how it works."

"How do you know?" Sean rubs the bridge of his nose in exasperation. But he can tell Daniel's got into the idea and won't drop it until Sean considers it. "What if that's another side of your power? Like I used to just move things around and now if I concentrate enough I can make them explode."

"Yeah, I know, your mind feels like it's on crack every time that happens," not that it's an unpleasant feeling, but Sean won't say it out loud. Oh yeah, he doesn't need to. Daniel grins at him.

"It's called adrenaline, look it up sometime, it's healthy."

"Sure, next time I get my PC running and set up some WiFi," Sean snorts and turns back to the gooey cold mass in the pan they have for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Time to cook the hell out of it.

"But think of it, Sean, what if you're only using half, or even third of your power? You've been suppressing it for so long, who knows what you could be capable of if you-"

"If I what, Daniel?" he snatches the spatula off the counter and marches with the pan to the stove. "If I trained it on random people around town? Got into their heads without their consent? Brainwashed them?"

"And why the hell not! It'd be better than you having nosebleeds every time you actually use it!" Daniel jumps off the table and strides around it. Sean is hit with a wave of bitter hate and tenses. It's not directed at him though.

"I haven't had one since those assholes in town," he says despondently.

"Right, and that was what, three days ago?"

"Five, not that it makes any difference, I knew pulling something against them was a bad idea, I'm not- I can't use my power as well as you and-," he remembers the indent Daniel's new power dome thing left in the rocky river bank where he formed it last, "I don't know how long it'll take me to get on your level, but you can't tell me I should've practiced on unsuspecting people," his voice breaks a little at the end. Sean doesn't care.

Daniel is quiet for a while. Then Sean hears him come to stand beside him. He stirs the ravioli and doesn't look up.

"You could've asked me, you know I would've helped no matter what," Sean frowns. The water starts boiling and he leaves the pan alone, walks over to the mattress they hauled here and sits down heavily.

"I know it's affecting you too," he says once Daniel settles beside him. He's not denying it this time, and he shouldn't, they both know it's true. "My power-," Sean swallows around his anger and frustration. "It hurts you sometimes, and resisting it tires you out, it's no good for you," he puts his arms on his knees and drops his head on them. "It's no good for anyone."

"Hey," Daniel suddenly jabs him in the side and Sean almost falls over. He scowls up at him only to see Daniel smiling. "I know it's tough, but it's a part of you, and I don't mind it," he says simply.

Sean relaxes, even if just a bit, after he hears it. He feels it too, how supportive Daniel is. It blooms soft and warm in his mind, calming it and making the pain duller.

"You're also lucky I'm so strong, throw any mind trick at me, I won't budge," Daniel adds, grinning.

"Yeah, right, the strongest Diaz of them all, achievement unlocked," Sean pushes him and it's on.

"Who dares challenge me? Meet your demise!" Daniel exclaims before tackling him down and poking him in the sides, right where he knows Sean is most ticklish. But Sean won't go down so easily. In a minute he has Daniel in a loose chokehold.

They roughhouse for some time until the ravioli starts smelling like it's been smoked instead of boiled. To think it could get even more disgusting.

They eat in companionable silence, washing down the bland taste with hot water.

"Daniel," Sean calls, watching his brother arrange the pan, plates and mugs into a dirty flying pyramid.

"Hmm?" Daniel's power is a light tickling presence, right there by his side, but Sean's grip on his mind is growing weaker, and he needs him to hear this. To understand.

"I'm glad you're, um, helping me now," he says, a little awkwardly. "Even after what happened in-"

"I know right," Daniel interrupts. "I'm that awesome, huh?" He gives the dishes an extra spin, turns to Sean, and winks at him.

Sean shakes his head and smiles.

He's glad to have his brother back.

When the dark falls and they light up candles to play 'Ship, Captain, Crew', a game they created after coming across a bunch of dice in the bedroom, Sean feels a lot like he's travelled in time and they're both kids again, having a sleepover at Chris' house, happy and carefree.

He can't indulge in the fantasy completely, however, because something keeps him distracted during the game. It resembles an annoying buzz of a mosquito that catches him of guard every once in a while but when he starts listening more intently it's not there, so Sean writes it off as a new side effect of overusing his power and hopes it'll pass soon, like the headaches.

Still, his absentmindedness gives Daniel an opportunity to cheat with the dice and win, which happens very rarely since Sean usually catches him in the act. His lack of attention probably doesn't go unnoticed, but Daniel doesn't comment on it.

"I won, bro, you know what it means, right?" he grins cheekily and makes Sean's backpack float into his waiting hands. Of all the times Sean could've lost focus it had to be when they agreed to let the winner draw anything on the loser's backpack. Great.

"Uh, fine," he concedes reluctantly and tosses Daniel the white sharpie. "Just, don't draw anything cringy."

"Cringy, you say? Hah, let's see," Daniel's grin turns downright evil and Sean mentally prepares himself for his 'masterpiece', which, fortunately (or unfortunately), doesn't take him long to complete. "Done!" he chirps and turns Sean's bag around.

To his surprise, it's not half as bad as he expected. In fact, it looks pretty badass, with all the sharp angles and a sketch-like style. Or maybe what makes it cool in Sean's eyes is the fact that it's a drawing of two wolves howling at the moon above them.

"Wow, you've become quite an artist," he says with genuine admiration.

"Well, I'm clearly not as good as you, but yeah, I think it turned out great," Daniel nods, puffing out his chest a little and making Sean laugh.

"Oh yes, it turned out amazing," he teases Daniel and evades his fingers when he leans over to poke him in the ribs again. Then, before he decides to turn to more serious moves, Sean gets up from the mattress and pats his pockets in search of cigarettes. The pack is there, but his lighter is missing. Daniel was the last one who used it to make the fire. "Hey, where did you leave my-?"

"In the bedroom," Daniel says with a disgruntled expression, and when Sean raises an eyebrow, silently asking for a more precise location, adds, "Somewhere."

"Thanks," Sean huffs and grabs a candle off the table, keen on finding the lighter as quickly as possible and going out for a smoke.

Spending time with Daniel is nice, especially when he's in a good mood. But when he isn't Sean inevitably senses it too, no matter how hard Daniel tries to conceal certain things from him. Sean might not be able to hear what's bothering him exactly, but it gets to him nonetheless. And yet, he doesn't have the guts to confront Daniel about it for fear that it will only push him away.

That's why he needs to take breaks from their constant proximity, as cowardly as that may be. Besides, smoking reminds him of Lyla, and when he does it here he pretends that she is by his side. That she knows everything about them and accepts him the way he is. And also, that she forgives him for what he and Daniel did.

When Sean steps into the room the lighter reflects the flickering flame and glitters expectantly from the dilapidated chest of drawers.

He comes to pick it up and pauses for a bit, catching sight of the Great Northwest newspaper he grabbed in town, its front page flaunting the picture of that freak from the gas station lying in a hospital bed with casts on both arms. Sean shivers at the memory the picture brings and wishes they used the paper to kindle the fire. He's about to turn around and leave when the annoying buzz from earlier returns, reverberating inside his head with remarkable insistence.

Sean glances frantically around himself, expecting to find the source of the peculiar sound, and that's when he spots the broken radio, as dead to the world as can be, unless-

Sean's hand shoots up to touch the antenna mostly on impulse, but when his fingers wrap around the stainless steel his temples immediately start to throb and he flinches but doesn't let go.

Because the odd noise becomes louder and through it Sean hears two voices arguing, both male, but one old and gruff, and the other younger or maybe just naturally more high-pitched. At first he thinks the radio is working again and that he must've landed on a news channel, but the longer he listens the clearer it becomes that the voices are not coming out of the little speaker, they are talking in his head. Sean's learned to tell the difference over the years.

But it doesn't make any sense. There's no way Daniel was right when he suggested that Sean can-

He jostles the antenna a bit and the voices suddenly become more distinct, making Sean freeze in place and listen.

"-by the bridge already, Jeff!" the gruff voice growls angrily, "I'm doing it, I'm gonna catch those goddamn Mexican terrorists and show them what-"

"Don't be an idiot, Henry!" the high-pitched voice interrupts. "You heard the sheriff, the feds are coming tomorrow, there'll be a proper search party, with dogs and-"

Sean's blood runs cold.

"The dogs aren't gonna find shit, there's a blizzard coming soon!"

"Exactly, you old fool! Do you want the search party to look for you too? Come on, don't be-"

"They're hiding at the Hills' old house, that's gotta be it, I need to catch them, Jeff, after what they did to my Billy and Crawford's boys, they-"

"I know what they did, one of them also trashed my place real bad, and that's why you have to drop it and leave it to the feds! Christ, Henry, why do you think they are coming at all? Listen," the voice cuts off and Sean thinks for a moment that whatever connection he had with these two broke, but soon the man continues. "You'll show them the way to that house tomorrow, alright? You'll have back-up then, and now go out onto the highway, I'll pick you up."

There's no response for a short while and then the gruff voice barks, "Fine," and that seems to be the end of it.

Sean stumbles back from the radio, drenched in cold sweat and breathing heavily. His head aches and his hands tremble, sending the candlelight into a dancing fit on the shabby walls. It's a miracle he hasn't dropped the candle itself.

Shit, if those guys were talking about them, they are so screwed. And judging by what that Jeff dude said they only have until tomorrow to get the hell out of here.

Sean rushes back into the living room, startling Daniel and making him hastily shove something small and rectangular into his backpack.

"Where's the fire, bro?" he asks, then takes his state in and frowns.

"Daniel, we have to go, now," he deposits the candle on the table, grabs his bag and zips it wide open, ready to pack all of their belongings.

"What? Why?" Daniel awkwardly crawls off the mattress and walks around the table to intercept Sean on his way to the bathroom. "Dude, talk to me."

"We don't have time to-," he grimaces, realising that Daniel won't help until he gets a proper explanation. "I think you were right, about me and radio waves," he says, watching Daniel's face morph into an incredulous slack-jawed expression. Sean sighs and grabs his hand, transferring the memory of the last several minutes as fast as possible. When he lets him go Daniel looks at him with sombre understanding and without a word starts packing as well.

Half an hour later they stand on the veranda, all set to go. But where? Sean sees the same question reflected in Daniel's dark worried eyes and pulls out their two maps. Daniel holds up his flashlight and points it at the crinkled paper. Sean marked their journey in black pen as they advanced, and now it stands out short and insignificant against the larger scale. Sean stares at it dumbly for a couple of seconds until his gaze falls on a spot labelled 'Beaver Creek'.

"You want us to go to Grandma and Grandpa?" Daniel asks before the thought is fully formed in Sean's mind. Which proves that their link has really become stronger after these few weeks of training. And Sean is grateful for that because they need to decide fast.

Still, going to Beaver Creek is definitely not the best option. But there is something near the town that could be.

"You know, that winter, when I ran away, I came across the railroad at some point," Sean says slowly, "And I remember thinking then, if only I could get on a train, it'd probably take me anywhere I wanted," he looks over at Daniel, who watches him closely and, after a beat, nods.

And just like that they reach an agreement.

The hike to where the railway lies, according to the map symbols, takes them two days and a half. They get caught in the blizzard the guy on the radio promised, and it slows them considerably, but doesn't stop them. They've got too strong a motivation for that.

It's hard. Harder than any trip they've made so far. That's why when they see the tracks it feels like a little victory. And when they hear the freight train approaching, it feels even better. Jumping on it is surprisingly easy. Well, Daniel's power certainly makes it so.

It's after they've spent over an hour in a steadily swaying car that Sean finally lets himself relax a little. They managed to find one that had enough room inside and pried open the sliding doors to climb in. There are crates around them, and the walls have a collection of tags and curious symbols left by the previous train-hoppers, which gives Sean a long-forgotten desire to grab a pen and draw.

They left the door cracked open just a bit to let the dim afternoon light stream in and keep the worst of the chilly wind out. Sean studies his brother, dirty and dishevelled, just like himself, sitting slumped on a crate he pushed against the opposite wall. Then he takes out his sketchbook and sets to work, losing himself in the drawing and barely noting Daniel's small happy smile and how he shifts a little to be facing him. Time flies as he adds more details, but once he's satisfied with the result and puts the pen away Daniel plops down next to him and peers at the page.

"Not bad, bro, not bad," he hums approvingly, tapping at the fresh drawing. "Gotta say, I haven't posed in forever, but I obviously haven't lost my charm, and your new portrait of me perfectly captures-"

"Oh, shut up," Sean laughs and nudges him in the side. Daniel oofs and makes a pitiful face.

"That's how you treat your muse? So cruel," he stands and sways together with the moving car, feigning a wound to his heart that he clutches at theatrically.

"Whatever," Sean chuckles and tries to settle more comfortably on the hard crate, which is impossible. In the cabin they at least had a mattress.

"Hey, it's almost Christmas, right?" Daniel suddenly speaks up from where he's crouched in front of his bag.

"Uh, yeah, I mean, if you can call three whole weeks 'almost'?" Sean replies uncertainly, feeling that Daniel is asking that for a reason but not sure he should peek into his mind to see what it is.

"Those are boring technicalities," Daniel states and stands up, holding one hand behind his back.

"You want to do early Christmas or something?" Sean asks, wondering if he should check what Daniel is thinking about after all. "Here? On the train?"

"Yep," Daniel says joyfully, then prompts, "Close your eyes."

"But Dan, I haven't prepared anything for you," Sean attempts to protest.

"You just did," he nods at the closed sketchbook still lying on Sean's lap.

"It's just a sketch, I-"

"I like it enough. Come on, dude, just close your eyes," Daniel begins to lose his patience and Sean does as he's told with a huff.

A moment later something lands on his knees and he grabs a hold of it before it can fall and roll away. When he opens his eyes he sees a plain grey box, which, upon inspection, turns out to contain an mp3 player. The player that Sean specifically told Daniel to forget about when they last went into town. The player that Daniel stole regardless.

All of a sudden, Sean remembers how one of the guys on the radio said that his place had been trashed. But when he and Daniel stole from the convenience store they left everything intact, which means-

"Where did you get this, Daniel?" Sean glares at his brother, whose smile slowly slips from his face.

"I- In town, I mean, where else?" his eyes dart to the side when he says that and Sean feels his growing unease.

"Where exactly?" he doesn't raise his voice, but it becomes strained. Daniel gulps, reaches up to card a hand through his tangled hair, then drops it.

"At the electronics shop," he finally admits and Sean rubs his temples in defeat.

"And you trashed it," it's not even a question that needs answering, Daniel's hot heavy guilt speaks for itself. "Fucking hell, Daniel, were there cameras?"

"I took care of them," he says defensively. Sean's not buying it.

"All of them?" he watches Daniel's face and sees the second it flickers with a shade of doubt. That is more than enough. "Fuck."

Daniel doesn't look for excuses anymore, so at least there's that. The tension between them is dark and oppressive, worsened by the slow realisation of what it means for both of them if Daniel's power was caught on camera.

The train keeps moving, the car keeps shaking and swaying, oblivious to their troubles. And something about its relentless indifferent movement helps Sean accept the situation as it is.

So what if the police, and apparently the fucking FBI, has some footage where shit seems to move on its own. It doesn't have to mean anything, as long as they don't get arrested and questioned, or tested, or experimented on. The only thing that they need to worry about is not getting caught. And if they hope to succeed they can't have any more secrets between each other.

"What you did back there seriously sucked, man," Sean meets Daniel's tortured gaze. "You have to promise not to hide stuff like that from me," he says, then adds for good measure, "Even if you think I'll get mad."

"Are you still mad?" Daniel asks, uncharacteristically timid.

"No, I'm not," Sean shakes his head, struggling to mean it.

"If I promise, will you promise me something in return?" Daniel steps to him with newfound resolve.

"What is it?" he scoots to the side, inviting Daniel to sit beside him. He does.

"Don't suppress your power around people anymore," he starts, looking Sean straight in the eyes. "Channel it to me, if it gets too much, but don't- Don't do that to yourself."

Sean studies him thoughtfully, letting the request sink in. He understands that Daniel has got a point, his power alerted them to the impending danger more than on one occasion, so all moral reservations aside, he has to use it if they want to get to Mexico safely. Still, reading people is not his main concern. What bothers Sean more is the mind manipulation that he hasn't properly got under control yet, and his recently discovered ability to function as a freaking radio receiver. But even as he considers all this, a reply is sitting ready on the tip of his tongue.

"I'll try," he voices it quietly, almost letting it drown in the noise of the railroad. But Daniel hears him perfectly fine.

"Good," he says, clapping his hands, then rubs them together to dispel the nervous energy that itches in his fingers. "I'll try too," he promises.

They don't say anything else for a long while. Until Daniel coaxes Sean to unpack his early Christmas present.

The little old-fashioned thing runs on batteries and when they switch it on they find that it still has one bar of energy left. There is no music on it yet, but the radio is working fine and thankfully doesn't affect Sean like the one at the cabin. They plug in his earphones and share the earbuds to listen to random songs and crappy commercials as the train takes them further south.

They will be fine. As long as they are together, they'll make it. They have to.

'We will,' Daniel's thought feels firm and reassuring, and Sean desperately wants it to be true.