Into the Wild
msmooseberry
Summary:
In the first days on the run the brothers learn about the aftermath of what they caused at the party in Seattle. Sean is consumed with guilt and pretty much convinced that his slip up is the main reason for this whole mess, whereas Daniel learns just how far he is ready to go to keep them from getting caught. But where are they headed? And are they prepared to make that journey together?
Chapter 1: Sean
Chapter Text
The river bank is beautiful, with trees and bushes growing tall and lush, even where the ground becomes stony and littered with rocks close to the water edge. The rushing stream reflects the setting sun and makes the sparkly patches on the surface seem alive.
Usually Sean would find a view like this calming and inspirational, but not now.
As he sits on a rock and stares blindly at the trees on the other side, the sketchbook lying open in his lap long forgotten, his head feels like it might explode from the onslaught of memories that he's been suppressing all this time. While he and Daniel were on the move it worked, but in this moment of calm nothing helps him to get distracted, even drawing.
The sketch came out rushed and lacking details. Sean doesn't try to make it better.
Flashes of what happened at Derek's house spring before his eyes. He closes them in hope to get rid of the vivid pictures, but they only become brighter and gain volume, start to move, and almost throw him back to the cold dirty patio floor where he collapsed after taking a few sips of that disgusting purple drink. He didn't want to touch it with a ten foot pole in the first place, but seeing Daniel so at ease, with his cool badboy moves and smug smirks, riled him up and he acted without thinking.
Look where it got them. And all those people at the party who were hurt because he needed liquid courage to impress Jenn.
Sean shudders, recalling the state he was in when Daniel got to him. It was as if control he practiced every day and was so proud of was ripped away from him in an instant. No matter how hard he tried he could do nothing to block out the huge bulk of sensory information that came crushing on him from all directions. It paralyzed him and left him helpless and confused because his mind never felt so open to the world before. Not even when he took two hits of that super-strong pot Eric got them for the end of the year party last summer.
And his hyper-awareness seemed to amplify once Daniel grabbed his hand. The link between them formed faster than lightning, giving Sean access to the tiniest corners of his brother's mind. At the tips of his fingers were Daniel's deepest memories and recent thoughts, his darkest fears and little grudges, his greatest hopes and uncontrollable urges. All that made him tick was right there, practically glaring Sean in the face and making him wonder how he could be so oblivious to it in the last couple of years. Or maybe even his whole life.
Still, it was rapidly getting drowned in the growing noise of numerous other minds in the vicinity, and Sean instinctively reached out to the only one that felt familiar and safe. Daniel's mind stood out sharp and clear in the chaos that filled his head, like a bright beacon amid a dark raging sea. Sean grasped at it firmly and was met with an eager response, and one so strong Sean couldn't believe his senses for a bit.
Because Daniel's power has turned into something else. Of course, Sean could feel its ripples when Daniel used it in the house, or on their rare hiking trips with Dad, and it held a distinct residual buzz that lingered some time after he used it elsewhere on his own. But that didn't give Sean the full picture of how much stronger and controlled it has become, since Daniel kept his mind firmly shut and Sean never really tried to break through his walls.
Those fell on their own two days ago. The connection between them was finally re-established, and direct touch made Sean see the stark difference between what Daniel's power felt like when they were kids and what it felt like now. Back then it was often hesitant and untamed, also easily spooked and ready to lash out at the slightest indication of danger. It was nothing like that anymore, and rather resembled a great powerful beast that lay still, well-trained and strictly disciplined but always ready to attack, waiting to do it actually.
And it welcomed him, called to him, looking for directions. Sean simply couldn't resist. Not with the unbearable pressure of the world around him. He needed it to stop.
He doesn't remember everything that happened at the party, and still can't bring himself to ask Daniel about it, but he remembers that it was bad. So bad it resulted in a fucking disaster that made the front page of the next day morning paper and got labelled 'High School Party Ends in Explosion'. Neither of them slept that night and walked along the highway to get out of the city as fast as possible. When they reached the outskirts it was well past noon, and the big blocky letters mocked them from the racks of a lone newsstand open next to a shabby convenience store they passed by chance.
Daniel didn't want them to waste their time on it, but Sean bought the paper anyway. He kinda wishes he didn't. Sure, it already burned in the fire pit left here conveniently by the previous campers, but no flames will help him forget the words he read in the plainly written article.
'An unidentified explosive device went off at 7:45 PM in a suburban house in South Seattle where a group of high school students were having a party. The explosion was reported by the neighbors and the teenagers who were still inside the residence, two ambulances and a fire brigade were dispatched immediately to the location. The building received considerable damage, and several young people were admitted to the hospital with broken bones and concussions. Five of them suffered severe head trauma and remain in critical condition. The witnesses are still being questioned, but there are strong indications that the explosion was man-made and that the culprits might be on the run.'
Guilt gnaws at Sean's insides when he thinks that one of those people in critical condition could be someone he knew, like Lyla, or Jenn. He hasn't received any texts from either of them, and they may not have been awfully close with Jenn, true, but not hearing from Lyla, especially after what happened, made Sean sick with worry and remorse.
He got a couple of jumbled texts from Eric and Ellery, several from unknown numbers, and a ton of messages and missed calls from Dad, which did nothing to soothe his uneasy conscience. Daniel got them too, but he shut off his phone after the fifth ring. Sean only went as far as putting his on silent. It still vibrated with each new message and put him further on edge.
Sean hasn't read them. Because if he does, it will make everything more real. Besides, he has a pretty good idea of what he will find there. He knows Dad is freaking out, wants them to call him back, say that they are alright, wants to know what happened and where they are, if they are safe. And Sean just can't. Can't admit that they, that he fucked up so majorly it probably ruined their lives.
He grips the edges of the sketchbook hard, glaring down at it without blinking and feeling his eyes start to sting.
He knows he let Dad down.
"Look out for your brother, hijo, and come back safe," was the last thing he said before they took off 'to the skatepark'. And Sean promised him he would, even if he lied about where they were actually going. But now that it blew up in their faces he feels responsible, and a lot more than Daniel, because out of the two of them it's Sean who is supposed to be the reasonable one.
When he slips up it's always something huge. Like this colossal fucking mess that keeps growing faster than a snowball hurtling down at immense speed. There's no stopping it and no getting out of its way. And he started it.
Of course, they had to learn about the real extent of the trouble they were in once they decided it was safe to let their guard down for a bit. They'd been walking for almost a whole day when they came across a diner a good few miles away from the city. This time it was Daniel who insisted they needed a break and some big greasy burgers if they didn't want to shut down in the middle of the road after so much exercise, both physical and mental.
Sean didn't protest, even if he probably should have, and soon enough they found themselves in one of the booths inhaling their respective burgers and washing them down with the best milkshakes Sean had in his entire life.
Then, and Sean remembers how time seemed to slow down in that moment, he glanced over Daniel's shoulder and up at the small beat-up TV perched above the counter. It was switched to the news channel.
The screen was small and the volume was turned down, but it was impossible not to recognise the figures moving in the video that was being broadcast. It was blurry and shot with a crappy phone camera from an awkward angle, and yet that was enough for Sean to grow cold all over and choke on the vanilla shake that Daniel had been teasing him for seconds earlier.
It got worse when above the poor quality video appeared bright red letters that read 'Possible Culprits Escape from Explosion Site'. Then the newsflash switched to a shaken teen who was standing against the backdrop of what looked like the entrance to a hospital. There was a mic in front of him and apparently he was answering some questions, but Sean couldn't make out what he was saying because the sound was too low, or perhaps because blood was roaring in his ears. Then the same video was put back on, only this time it was paused at certain points and the freezed figures were circled in red.
Sean's face turned ashen pale, his hands started to shake, and with growing panic he noticed people shift uncomfortably in a booth across from them by the window, and on the high stools at the counter, clutching their heads as if they all got sudden headaches.
It's then that Daniel grabbed his hand and knew exactly what Sean was seeing on the shitty TV screen, which was something they'd experienced firsthand the day before. It still felt surreal to watch themselves dashing through the backyard full of unconscious bodies, putting on their backpacks in a hurry and disappearing into the trees.
'I'll handle it,' he heard Daniel's determined thought, but didn't fully comprehend it. Daniel didn't wait for his reply though and turned a little in his seat, reaching his right hand discreetly out of the booth. Sean realised it was too late to stop him when the TV blinked a couple of times and exploded with a loud pop, followed by the sound of broken glass and crackling electricity that short-circuited and sent out a fountain of sparks.
Sean cursed and wanted to scream at Daniel in frustration and disbelief, but he didn't give him the chance. Without a word he pulled Sean out of his seat and swiftly walked towards the exit. The busted TV naturally grabbed everybody's attention and they managed to slip away unnoticed. Or at least that's what Daniel kept trying to convince him of as they ran through the trees, avoiding the road for two or three more miles.
By the time they reached an old dirty bridge that served them as a temporary (and honestly quite lousy) shelter, they were both too beat to start any fights and settled there for the night.
Which is why they're all sore today. The blanket Sean packed for the party, for that damned outdoor fire on the patio, didn't do shit to make the hard ground any softer or warmer. So they got up as soon as the sun did and set off again to God knows where. The lack of direction and the ever-present stress led to a long pointless bitching argument in the afternoon, after which, however, they made a truce and agreed not to complain out loud for the rest of the day.
And then they came across the Trout Spring Trail and ended up where they currently are, in a deserted national park right by the river in the middle of fucking autumn.
Oh well, at least they have a toasty fire now.
Sean just wishes he could burn all his worries in it, like that stupid paper.
Suddenly there is a light tickle at his temples, which alerts Sean to Daniel's proximity quicker than the pages of his sketchbook that rustle wildly as they start flipping back and forth. Sean lets out a short indignant yelp and whips around.
"Daniel! What the hell!" he shuts the sketchbook and stands up under Daniel's amused gaze.
"You've been staring at it for the last fifteen minutes, dude," he walks up to Sean and taps his finger on the cover. "Were you trying to draw with your mind or something?" he teases.
"No, just thinking," Sean is not in the mood for his dumb sense of humour. He turns away from Daniel's laughing eyes and strides away along the shore. That's why he doesn't see how his brother's face falls.
"Yeah, I could feel it from up there," he mutters, following Sean.
"Well, I'm sorry, okay," he huffs and kicks a small boulder. It hurts his toe through the thin fabric of his sneaker and doesn't roll far. Fucking great.
"You're too tense, man," Daniel notices casually, which grates on Sean's nerves even more.
"Am I? Name one good reason why I shouldn't be," he snaps and looks up to find Daniel smirking.
"It could've been an awesome camping spot in the summer," Sean glares at him, thoroughly unimpressed. "What? Come on, you know I'm right. Look at this cool ass river and all these perfect flat stones," he gestures around and lifts several round rocks up in the air. "And when there's water and stones, there's only one thing to do."
The stones spin in a jolly circle above Daniel's open palm and Sean can't help a small grin that tugs at the corners of his lips. Every time they went camping with Dad and there was a lake or a river nearby the three of them would have some wicked stone skipping tournaments. It was always so much fun, just thinking about it makes Sean relax a little.
"So what do you say?" Daniel definitely catches the change in the mood and presses on. "Think you can throw further than me? Or has your skill become too rusty already?" Sean rolls his eyes.
"As if I ever had any chance against you, cheater," he says but holds out a hand nonetheless. Daniel laughs and dumps two stones into it.
"What are you talking about, I never cheated in my life," he exclaims, scandalized.
"Yeah yeah, of course you didn't," the stones are pleasantly cool and heavy in his palm, but not too heavy, and very smooth. Daniel really picked the perfect ones.
"You know what, I'll even let you go first," he says, taking a step aside in invitation.
"Oh wow, how gracious of you," Sean shakes his head.
"Shut up and throw already," Daniel grumbles. He doesn't need to ask Sean twice.
He tucks the sketchbook away, gets closer to the water edge and takes a moment to find the right position and adjust his hold. Concentrating on his movements helps him push aside the nagging thoughts, and as he lets go of the round stone in his hand, he pretends that he lets go of his built-up tension. It skips only four times before sinking, but Sean still feels good about it.
"Ooh, not bad," Daniel stands next to him and gets ready to throw. "But look at this," and the stone goes skipping off the sparkling surface three, five, seven times, and then Sean sees that it's about to sink. But it doesn't, and jumps three more times before going down with a splash.
"Amazing," Sean comments dryly, feeling the unmistakable buzz of Daniel's power right beside him.
"Yep, it's all in the wrist," Daniel waves the said wrist in front of Sean's face, and his eyes are shining mischievously. He knows he's been found out. So why does he keep- "You should throw it like this, see?" he interrupts Sean's train of thought and demonstrates his stance, glancing back at him with undisguised mirth.
"I don't know, man," Sean sighs. He could call him out on his lie, start another stupid argument, but he's so tired he is mostly disappointed that Daniel cheated to make him look like a total loser. "What's even the point," he frowns down at the rock he's still clutching in his hand and throws it to the ground.
"Hey, come on, don't be like that, give it another try," Daniel says pleadingly, his expression earnest this time. He holds out his other stone and when Sean refuses to take it makes it fly in wavering curves around him.
"Fine," Sean gives up, wanting this to be over already. He grabs the floating stone and gets in position.
He'll show Daniel how far he can throw. Only unlike him Sean won't cheat. Not that he has any means to do it anyway.
Daniel hovers annoyingly close as he moves his arm back to give the rock good momentum, and Sean doesn't understand why until he sends it jumping off the water and senses a strong current of Daniel's power run along his fingers. He jerks back in surprise and crashes into Daniel, but his eyes never leave the little stone that goes at a great speed and easily skips ten, no fifteen, even twenty times before disappearing in the river. Sean stares in disbelief at the spot where it sank, which is mere feet away from the other bank.
Daniel chuckles close to his ear and he jumps, realising that he stood pressed to his chest.
"Now that's amazing," he comments smugly and claps Sean amiably on the shoulder. "You totally outscored me, dude," it's hard to believe, but he's not saying it mockingly, Sean can tell, instead he looks...proud of him for some inexplicable reason. As if he hasn't just used his own power to propel that stupid rock and let Sean win, like it was his plan all along.
It dawns on him slowly, but once he gets it Sean feels his heart leap in his throat. And then he laughs. Daniel studies him for a few moments and joins in. Sean starts laughing harder. He can't help it.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?" he wheezes, grabbing Daniel's arm for purchase. He's running out of breath and getting a bit light-headed, but he can't stop. His bouts of laughter turn into choked sobs, he bites his lips to keep them in and fails. Daniel doesn't move away and holds him steady until he calms down eventually. "This is ridiculous," Sean lets out a long sigh and kicks a rock into the water.
"Hey, at least it made you smile for a little while," Daniel's tone is light-hearted, but Sean feels the anxious pulsing of his mind. It has to be the proximity, and the fact that Daniel let go practically of all the barriers he usually put up when Sean was around, because he finds it easier to tune into his brother's emotions than it has been in forever.
So he knows Daniel is on edge too, maybe even more so, judging by the recurring sense of guilt that only grew since they ran into the night and left a wrecked house and probably their normal lives behind forever. But his guilt is not quite the same as Sean's. In fact, it feels more focused, like Daniel regrets doing something in particular and couldn't care less about everything else. Curiously enough, Sean can't put his finger on what it is, and as long as they keep avoiding this topic altogether, it seems that all he can do is guess.
Because emotions are one thing, but Daniel's actual thoughts are still something he carefully conceals from Sean when he doesn't want him in his head. And Sean understands. He's happy Daniel at least doesn't push him away anymore.
"So," he speaks up, a bit awkwardly after such a long stretch of silence. "Time to eat?"
"Hell yes, I'm starving," Daniel readily agrees and they track back to the fire pit and the 'secret layer of Diaz Lobos' as Daniel called it on sight. Not that Sean had anything against it, the cave-looking rock formation was pretty badass. He wishes they discovered it under different circumstances.
As they settle by the fire and unpack, the sun disappears below the trees and paints the sky in the soft hues of yellow, orange and blue. Sean's fingers itch to capture it and he regrets not carrying any colourful pencils in his school pencase. He's lucky he took it at all. As well as a box of cookies from the secret stash in his desk and a bottle of water. He pulls both out and sets them on the blanket. Between him and Daniel they have enough snacks to last them maybe another day or two. But they'll need to get more food very soon.
A pack of cigarettes also wouldn't hurt. Damn is he craving for a smoke right now.
"Think about it any harder and you might conjure it, bro," Daniel snorts, poking the simmering logs with a stick.
"Oh shut up," Sean stops rummaging in his backpack and is about to pull his hand out when something prickles his fingers. He closes them around the cool little object and immediately remembers what it is.
A crudely made metal dog, or a wolf perhaps, that he found on his table two days ago. He was getting ready for the party in such an agitated state he didn't have time to inspect it, but its presence in his room was perplexing, so he decided to look at it more closely later. That's why he shoved it in his backpack together with the rest of the stuff that he and Lyla had agreed he would bring earlier in the day.
With all that happened it's not surprising that he completely forgot about the tiny lopsided thing. And his confusion as to where it came from.
But now that he studies it under the flickering orange light, turning it in his hand, he thinks he knows who made it. And it wasn't Dad.
There's a light shuffling noise from where Daniel is sitting on a flat rock to his right, and when Sean looks over, he quickly averts his eyes and starts stirring the fire more vigorously.
If that's not telling enough, then the nervous hum of Daniel's mind certainly is. Sean suppresses a grin that threatens to give away his amusement and schools his expression into a stern frown.
"You left this in my room?" he asks bluntly, and Daniel's hand jerks, sending a cloud of sparks in the air.
"I, um, yeah, I guess I did," he drops the stick on the ground beside him and rubs the back of his neck.
"Okay," Sean says, watching him. He can't be sure with the warm reddish glow of the fire, but it looks a lot like his brother is blushing. "Why?"
"Wh-Why do you want to- I mean, well," he won't meet Sean's expectant gaze and shifts, reaching into his back pocket. Sean bites the inside of his cheek not to smile outright. Daniel acting all flustered and fumbling for words is something new, and it's oddly endearing. "I just thought that you were right, about, you know, this," he says at last, holding out a neatly folded piece of paper. Sean takes it, but as he starts to unfold the crinkled page with one uneven edge his jovial mood all but disappears.
Because it's the sketch he did before trying to talk to Daniel heart-to-heart about two weeks ago. And that didn't go well, to put it mildly. Which is why Sean tore out the picture of them posing like two superheros from his sketchbook and put it where he wouldn't be able to see it anymore. Yet here it is, back in his hands, a bit worn but otherwise perfectly intact.
"Where did you get this?" he asks sharply, not pretending in the slightest this time around.
"Oh, uh, it was just..." Daniel trails off, and Sean senses his guilt flaring up brighter than the flames licking at the logs in the pit.
"In my desk, right? What the fuck, dude? Did you go through my other stuff too?" he raises his voice and Daniel glances up at him meekly, like a puppy who chewed the hell out of an expensive pair of shoes and simply waits to be forgiven. "Seriously?" he can't fucking believe this.
"Look, I know it wasn't cool," Daniel starts slowly, then pauses, raking one hand through his hair in frustration. Then he makes himself face Sean properly and continues with more resolve. "I know I screwed up, and not only when I went through your stuff, but all those times I was an asshole to you, I'm really sorry, I wish I could take it back," his voice starts to tremble a little, "and I know I can't, but-," he gulps and nods at the sketch in Sean's hand, "If you give me a chance, I'll show you that you were right."
Sean blinks at him, briefly taken aback. The paper rustles as he opens it fully and goes over the messy lines with a cursory glance. The letters above the picture are bold and clear, and Sean recalls how Daniel started to refer to them as 'Super Wolf Bros' again all of a sudden when they decided to go to the party. He must've had the sketch by that time already.
There is a line below the picture too. Sean vaguely remembers writing it, but rereading it helps him finally understand what Daniel means.
'We could've been a wicked team,' he wrote, because he desperately wanted to restore their relationship but feared that it was impossible. And now Daniel is apologising and saying that he wants to give it a shot. He really must be serious about it.
Sean can't formulate his whirling thoughts for a while, and Daniel's patience is wearing thin, but he sits still, barely breathing by the looks of it. His mind is a mess though, Sean can feel it practically vibrating with suppressed nervous energy.
"So, will you?" he asks tentatively.
Sean shakes his head to pull himself together.
"Don't be stupid," he says, looking at the dancing flames to avoid Daniel's intense stare. He gets incredibly hot all over, and it's hardly from the heat of the fire. Sean clears his dry throat and continues. "We're brothers, I'll always give you a chance."
After the words leave his mouth Sean's cheeks are positively burning, and the awkward silence that hangs between them makes it worse. But then comes a loud cracking noise followed by a flurry of movement, because the fire grows wild for a second and bursts upwards in the form of a blazing pillar that almost gets out of the pit and onto their blanket. Sean yelps and falls back, Daniel goes after him, waving his arms over the fire as if to calm it down.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, fuck," he rambles, dropping down next to Sean and looking him over critically. "Are you okay?"
"Hah, yeah, I'm unscathed," Sean lets out a chuckle. "Should I call you Spitfire from now on?" he teases and Daniel hits him lightly on the shoulder.
"Oh shut it," he huffs, both annoyed and relieved. "Seriously though, thank you, it's-," he hesitates, eyeing Sean for a moment, then leans sideways and pulls him into a tight hug, saying, "It means a lot to me."
Sean's arms move on their own and soon he's hugging Daniel back just as firmly.
He almost forgot how nice it is, to be able to hug his brother like that. They stopped doing it regularly, just like they stopped doing everything else as they grew apart. But now that they are both on the same page and in the same boat, sailing the endless sea of the great unknown, it's time for them to become a team again.
Sean falls asleep with this thought later in the night. The blanket is still too thin, and the ground too hard to find a comfortable position, but with the peaceful crackling of the fire and Daniel's warm body right beside him it doesn't bother him so much, and he easily slips out of consciousness.
Unfortunately, his mind doesn't get the memo and refuses to stay idle for long, quickly turning Sean's pleasant dreamless slumber into a full-blown nightmare.
It starts pretty innocently, with a setting that resembles Derek's house, but not quite. There are people inside, and out in the backyard, lots of them, because it's a party. As he walks through the rooms they all smile at him, some even wave, and at first Sean thinks they must be his friends and are happy to see him, so he smiles at them in return, even if he doesn't recognise a single face. Then he begins to notice that those who he thought were waving are in fact pointing in his direction, whispering between themselves and snickering quietly. Their unfamiliar faces no longer look friendly, their smiles turn into leers, and soon the house fills with their unrestrained laughter.
They are laughing at him. Sean knows because he can hear their thoughts. Every single one of them. And they are disgusting, they hurt, whispering to him what an ugly freak he is, what a failure, an abomination, worthless, pathetic. Sean wishes he could shrink and disappear. He wants to stop them but he doesn't know how. He feels completely lost.
Suddenly there is a calming presence behind him. Sean doesn't turn around but he knows it's Daniel. Who else can it be? Everybody else won't come near him. Daniel doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. Just having him by his side helps Sean to focus. He takes a step forward, though he's not sure what he's about to do, maybe tell these laughing assholes to shut up and leave them alone. But that's not what happens.
Sean sees it in slow motion and excruciating detail. How people around him start shaking and clutch their heads, how blood starts running out of their noses and their ears, and how they sway and fall down in boneless heaps. Sean wants to scream but no sound comes out of his throat. A hand grips his shoulder and he jumps, looking around wildly. No one is there. But it can't be, he was so sure.
"Daniel," he calls, weak and desperate. "Daniel!" he tries again. People continue to crumble right before his eyes, and it's terrifying. He won't be able to handle it alone. "Daniel, please! Where are you?" he sobs out. Blood seeps from beneath the unmoving bodies and pools around him. "No, stop," he mumbles helplessly, shaking his head, "Please, make it stop."
"Shh, it's alright," Daniel's voice speaks directly in his ear. "I'll make it go away," and Sean has no time to react before the walls of the house are crashing down on the remaining people in the room, burying them under layers of rubble and hiding them from sight. Sean is afraid to move and jerks when a hand takes his in a firm grip. He looks up and Daniel is there this time. He's smiling gently, and it's nothing like those fake smiles Sean saw before, Daniel's smile is real, and it's only for him. "I'm right here, Sean, I got you," he says.
"Sean," his tone changes, sounding more alarmed. Sean frowns. "Sean, wake up!" he says loudly, and Sean comes to with a start.
He looks around in confusion, taking note of his rapid breathing and madly beating heart. Daniel's face is scrunched with worry and he's got his hands on Sean's shoulders, probably because he had to shake him awake. A strong shiver wracks his body. Their fire almost died down and it is really chilly this close to the river.
"You okay?" Daniel asks in a whisper. Sean sits up, rubs a hand over his face and shrugs.
"I don't know," he sighs, then hangs his head and admits quietly, "I don't think so."
"Hey," Daniel shuffles closer but doesn't touch him yet, giving him space. "Nightmares suck, but they're just stupid dreams, they can't hurt you," wow, he must look really out of it if Daniel tries to comfort him like that. And it's not that he doesn't have a point, but there's something Sean needs to ask him. Should've asked him a long time ago.
"Do you think we hurt those people at the party, like, real bad?" he peers into Daniel's eyes. Normally a warm brown, in the semi-darkness they appear to be pitch black.
"What? No, of course not," Daniel says confidently. "I mean, yeah, they got it rough, but-" he frowns. "Those jerks deserved it."
Sean gapes at him in shock.
"You can't be serious," Daniel shrugs. "Lyla didn't deserve it, Jenn didn't deserve it, nobody fucking deserved it!"
"Okay, your friends didn't deserve it," Sean flinches at how Daniel spits out the word 'friends', and at the anger that radiates off of him in waves. "But those other fuckers, what good did they do? Just stood there and laughed when you needed help."
"Don't say that," Sean mumbles, remembering his vivid nightmare, the laughing faces that end up twisting in pain. Strangely enough, Daniel complies. His frown gets deeper, and Sean realises belatedly that he must've projected what he saw.
They sit in silence for a whole minute, not looking at each other. The wind picks up and Sean moves to stir the fire.
"You know, I thought I had it under control," he says, watching the flames come to life. "Thought I could suppress it at any time," his voice grows thick and hoarse. "But I can't, these past few years were all for nothing," he sniffles, too upset to care that he sounds like a whiny kid who fell off a bike riding with no training wheels for the first time. "I can't control shit," his vision becomes blurry and he throws the stick he used to poke the fire with directly into it.
He senses Daniel move closer more than he hears him, and when an arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him into his brother's side, he doesn't resist.
"Control never comes easy," Daniel says, staring into the fire. "And suppressing your power won't get you anywhere near it," he holds out his hand and the stick that he left beside the rock flies right into his open palm. "Instead you should practice it more," Sean studies his profile, which seems to be constantly changing in the flickering light. Then he turns his head and looks at Sean. His eyes are no longer black, but not brown either. They are shimmering gold.
Sean gulps nervously, lowering his gaze.
"Easy for you to say," the arm around his shoulders tightens.
"Yep, cause I practice every day," Sean snorts at that. Daniel was never humble. "And I could help you do it too."
Sean glances at him skeptically.
"Like, how?" the first thing that comes to his mind are Dad's training sessions in the woods. But those were mostly designed for Daniel and his telekinesis. Besides, he doubts building and activating traps will be as effective as it was when they were kids. Control or no control, Sean can still perceive the world much more acutely than he used to.
"Well, for starters, you could try talking to me more through our link, like we did back in Beaver Creek, remember?" Daniel smirks and nudges him lightly. Sean does remember the late night chats they had in complete silence, so that Dad wouldn't find out. He chuckles at the fond memory.
'Okay, let's do this,' he thinks, and Daniel beams at him.
'Cool,' he sends in reply. Then he concentrates and Sean hears, 'You could also try to get your block down around other people, so you could-'
"No, Daniel, no way," Sean says aloud. "I don't want to do it without them knowing."
"Oh, come on," Daniel huffs, but sees his expression and drops it. "Fine, one step at a time then."
'Let's go back to sleep,' Daniel starts pulling him back onto their thin useless blanket, yawning. Sean nods and follows him, even if he is still a bit apprehensive about what his mind might throw at him next time he closes his eyes.
Once he settles down though, Daniel shuffles close and hugs him from behind. His hold is loose, but Sean instantly feels calmer and almost ready to believe that his brother's embrace will be enough to shelter him from any trouble in the world. He even thinks that if he falls asleep now, he might not have a single bad dream for the rest of the night.
And it turns out that he is right. All he sees are two young wolves, roaming the woods freely and howling at the full moon in perfect sync. Somehow Sean knows that they are brothers.
Chapter 2: Daniel
Chapter Text
"Ow, shit, it stings," Sean hisses and jerks his head to the side, trying to get away from Daniel's fingers that press an alcohol wipe to his bleeding right eyebrow.
"Sorry, fuck, hold on, it almost stopped," Daniel says under his breath and grips Sean by the shoulder to keep him in place. He hates to see his brother squirm in pain under his touch, but he had to take over after Sean almost burned his retina when he attempted to get the blood out of his eye with the same wipe.
And honestly, they are lucky to have that much for disinfectant because this cheap motel room offers only basic toiletries and going to the manager to ask for a first aid kit is out of the question. Still, thanks to Brody they have a bunch of band aids and two more wipes, which will hopefully be enough for Sean's wound to heal and not get infected. They also have a brand new, if well-worn, backpack that will be a nice replacement for Sean's old torn one and thirty bucks, which isn't a fortune but a lot more than they had left.
Daniel knew Brody was a cool dude the moment he laughed at his blunt, "You've got serious balls to browse porn in public, man." He ended up doing them a huge favour when he gave them a lift and got them a room in this motel. He even left a super nice note that Sean read out after unpacking their stuff.
Daniel almost feels bad for taking the hula girl from his dashboard. Almost, but not quite.
"Tell me it stopped," Sean mutters, raising a hand to his face, but Daniel slaps it away.
"No, not yet, don't touch it," he snaps, feeling the familiar itch under his skin. The tension never left his body entirely.
Seriously though, the cut isn't even that deep, why the hell does it bleed so much?
In fact, after Brody helped Sean clean it in the car his brow was actually looking fine, up until he took a shower and the wound reopened, dripping blood all over Sean's face anew. And now it won't fucking stop.
They are sitting on the bed closest to the bathroom, and the TV Daniel switched on while he waited for Sean to come out flashes with bright colourful pictures of late-hour cartoons that provide an infuriatingly inappropriate cheery soundtrack. He never had an urge so strong to blast the goddamn screen, even if it's Hawt Dawg Man. But that would take away from his concentration and he needs it to tend to his brother.
Daniel grits his teeth, remembering how Sean stumbled out of the bathroom, with a bloodied towel pressed awkwardly above his right eye, and asked for help. His grip on Sean's shoulder involuntary tightens when he remembers how he got hurt in the first place.
"Hey, I think I can handle it from here," Sean gently pushes his hand away and takes the half-dry blood-soaked wipe from him. "Thanks," he adds softly, then gasps, dabbing at the little wound. Daniel watches him fumble with a band aid single-handedly and frowns.
'I'll be fine, don't worry,' he hears Sean's voice in his head and the words sound weak and strained. No matter how many times Sean tells him that, his eyes give him away. They hold traces of a heavy shell-shocked expression even three hours after what happened at the gas station and won't meet Daniel's for too long. Either because he doesn't want him to know how shaken he still is, or because he can't stand to see Daniel after what he did.
And probably it better stay this way, at least for now. Daniel doesn't think he'll be able to handle a direct look from his brother without being reminded of how those same eyes stared at him in shock and terror not so long ago.
So he nods and slides off the bed, grabs the remaining clean towel and heads for the bathroom. It's about time he took a shower himself, he reeks something awful.
Once the door shuts behind him Daniel lets out a long sigh and runs a hand forcefully through his hair, yanking at the long dirty bangs in frustration.
'Get a grip,' he orders himself and shuffles to the sink, intending to wash his hands to get rid of the sharp alcohol scent first. His reflection catches him off guard though.
His overall dishevelled state and a deep sullen scowl make him look like a thug, but what really bothers him is Sean's dried blood that stains the white wolf print on the front of his hoodie where Sean pressed his face at that damned party in Seattle. The days-old smears are dark reddish-brown in colour and right there. It makes Daniel's stomach turn. He wonders how he could've not noticed them when he and Sean were washing up in the gas station restroom. Somehow splashing Sean with icy cold water seemed more important at the time than studying his clothes in the dirty mirror.
He was being too careless until it was too late, and Sean paid for it. Again.
Daniel pulls the hoodie off, throws it into the sink, opens the faucet and tries to get the stains out with his bare hands, ignoring the soap. Five minutes of wild scrubbing and his fingers turn bright pink, but Sean's blood is still there, probably set in the fabric forever. Daniel drops it and looks at his palms instead.
He wouldn't be surprised to see blood on them too. Because isn't that what's supposed to haunt you after you spill it for the first time?
Going to the gas station was a shitty decision, Daniel knew that, or rather heard it spinning in Sean's head since the building came in sight. And his brother's misgivings only grew when on their way to the restroom they passed the picture perfect family, who were bickering with each other as they ate from tupperware containers and were clearly as full of shit on the inside as they were on the outside. They eyed them with obvious suspicion, and Daniel isn't sure what they thought exactly, but it had to be some grade-A racist bullshit because Sean visibly flinched and hurried to put more distance between them.
That's why Daniel believes that him snatching the douchedad's wallet right from his back pocket was fairly justified. If only it had any cash in it. All he found later were useless credit cards and an old family photo stuck in between them as an afterthought.
The whole time they were at the station Sean's anxiety was going through the roof, and Daniel guessed that four days out in the wild with no people around for miles must've affected his ability to suppress his power. As they were washing up he tried to get Sean's mind off how much he struggled to put his usual blocks back up and made him concentrate on their link instead. So what if he had to fool around with the tap and piss Sean off a little in the process, it seemed to serve the purpose just fine.
Daniel had to admit that Sean's unease and apprehension were pretty well-grounded though when they saw their faces on the front page of another stupid paper that claimed that they were the 'Main Suspects In Seattle Bombing On The Loose'. That totally sucked. But they still needed food and maybe some camping supplies, which the little convenience store had in abundance. So Daniel insisted that they should take the chance.
Although now that he looks back on it, he wishes he didn't.
To be fair, the old lady at the counter appeared to be pretty harmless and the store had plenty of good things to offer. They were low on cash, true, but Daniel didn't let it stop him, which got them a whole fucking tent and a nice warm sleeping bag, although he managed to grab only one, so they'll have to figure something out. He could've got his hands on one of the sweet hunting knives from the display case as well, but Sean tugged him away before he could open it. And there was no talking him into it, he was already seriously mad at Daniel for sending a rack with greeting cards to the floor so that Sean, who was standing right next to it, had to apologise and help the cashier lady clear up the mess.
The rest could've gone without a hitch. Sean dutifully paid for a bunch of stuff he picked on his own and they had decent hot-dogs outside, sitting at the table that the lousy family vacated. But then that fucking hillbilly popped out of nowhere and it all went to shit.
He came up to them when they were pretty much ready to leave, hunched over a map, which was free by the way, and deciding where to go next. Sean was pointing out the places they passed already and the ones they could theoretically reach by foot in a couple of days. Daniel wasn't interrupting him, his brother was always better at reading maps than he was, but all of a sudden he broke himself off, glancing at him with eyes wide in alarm, and Daniel knew something bad was about to happen.
The bearded dick, Hank Stamper, as the photos and fancy certificates inside the shop suggested, didn't keep them waiting and started spewing out his bigoted bullshit in a false friendly tone right away. It didn't fool Daniel for a second, especially since all he could hear in his head was Sean's frightened, 'He knows! He wants to catch us and call the police!'
He doesn't remember what he answered, probably something snarky and sarcastic as always, but the fucker didn't like it and demanded they go back to the store to check if they paid for all the stuff they had in their bags. Sean tried to talk sense into him, meanwhile getting up from the bench and reaching for his backpack. Daniel did the same. They weren't even looking at each other, but when Sean sent him a sharp and clear, 'Run!' Daniel immediately took off.
Sean was supposed to follow him, and at first Daniel was sure that he was running right beside him. Then came Sean's sudden yelp and the sound of tearing fabric. Daniel halted to a stop and turned around just in time to see that fucking asshole grip Sean by the shoulder and yank so hard he stumbled and almost fell. Daniel cursed and hurried back towards them. Stamper didn't look like he was done yet and Sean couldn't break free from his hold.
What happened next is still awfully fresh in Daniel's memory, so he can recall the exact moment it got to the point of no return. And that was when Stamper grabbed Sean by the hood and shoved him down against the wooden table. Daniel could hear a dull thud and Sean's quiet moan of pain, and when he lifted his head blood was running down the right side of his face, scaring the hell out of Daniel.
Everything seemed to slow down for a bit. Sean's mind too, so alive and panicked a few seconds ago, seemed to freeze, forced to acknowledge the physical pain that was about to kick in. The sight came straight out of Daniel's nightmares that he kept hiding from Sean for the past several days on the run. He couldn't get to his brother fast enough and he got hurt. Daniel's ears were ringing and he felt numb, like his whole body got ducked in icy cold water, even as his fingers burned with an itch so intense he could picture them lighting up on fire. But that wasn't what set him off.
It was Stamper, lifting a fist to land another hit on Sean who was sitting stunned and bleeding at his feet.
Daniel didn't let him do it. The rage that had been building inside him ever since that shithead opened his big fucking mouth finally broke loose and fed his power like nothing ever had before. He didn't fight it, didn't try to reign it in. He didn't believe he needed to. So when it gripped Stamper's arm, which was already going down with the sole purpose to hurt his brother even more, Daniel was fully aware of how much force he was going to apply.
What he actually didn't expect was how easily the bones snapped. And how loud Stamper's screams were after each sickening crunch. Also, it felt drastically different from crushing metal car parts at the scrap yard, so much so that at one point he found himself fascinated by the process. It didn't last long though. The fucker was swaying on his feet but still hollered profanities at both of them, and mostly at Sean because he couldn't fathom how Daniel could've done that from where he stood a couple of feet away. Then he swung back his other arm.
Frankly, pushing him away might've worked just as well, but Daniel was too caught up in the moment. He didn't even hear the door of the convenience store open and close when Stamper's wife went out to see what was going on and quickly ran back inside to call the cops. All Daniel cared about was the sensation of Stamper's arm twisting in his punishing grip, his tense muscles tearing and tendons ripping, his bones resisting the pressure for only a few seconds before cracking and breaking in several places.
He won't be able to beat anyone for a long while after that, Daniel remembers thinking. If he ever fully recovers, that is.
And Daniel doesn't feel guilty. He did what had to be done. Sean may not understand it now, but he will, eventually. He has to.
Daniel frowns down at his hands and clenches them into fists.
He did it to protect Sean, to protect them. He didn't do it for fun, or because he wanted to. Although he did get a great amount of satisfaction from seeing that racist bastard crumble, his ruined arms hanging uselessly by his sides. But was that really worth it?
Daniel looks up at his reflection and studies it closely.
Does Sean think he's a monster?
Maybe he should. Because the thing is, Daniel isn't certain he would've stopped at Stamper's arms if he hadn't caught Sean staring at him like he didn't recognise him, like he believed Daniel was the biggest threat.
The thought was nagging him all the way here, but he was too afraid to ask. He doesn't want it to be true. Everything's been going so good. Well, aside from them becoming outlaws and running from the cops. They finally started talking and joking with each other again, like they used to when they were kids, and it felt great. Daniel refuses to believe that he destroyed all that with his own hands.
The hot shower does little to ease his tension, but he takes his time anyway, scrubbing at his body with enough vigour to leave his skin red and tingling. As he washes the suds out of his hair Brody's words come to his mind.
Whatever happened is in the past. They've got each other and they have to move forward.
And Brody was right. They might not have told him the whole truth about what they did in Seattle, or where they were going. Hell, Daniel still has no idea, and neither does Sean. But Brody was damn right, they need to stick together. That's the only way for them to not get caught and sent to prison. Or somewhere worse.
Daniel does wonder, however, if Brody would've helped them had he not left the gas station when he did and saw Daniel taking care of Stamper. Would he have thought Daniel was a monster too?
'I'd rather be a monster than let anyone mess with us again,' he reasons bitterly, tugging his clothes back on and cringing a little at how the fabric feels against his damp and somewhat sensitive skin. He was never a big fan of towels, but maybe he should've dried himself better, because water is dripping off his hair and drenches his plain red tee. Ugh.
He makes the towel float to him from where he threw it on the countertop and intends to put it to good use when his head throbs with an unexpectedly strong mix of emotions that feel like panic, guilt and fear rolled into one. The towel drops to the floor and Daniel dashes out of the bathroom.
He urgently looks around the room but Sean is not there. Daniel curses and wants to go out to find him, he's got to be close for the projection to be this strong, but then he spots Sean pacing on the balcony behind the closed glass door.
He moves back and forth with his hand pressed to his ear, and it takes Daniel a couple of seconds to realise that he must be talking on the phone. Fuck, who did he call?
The balcony is only a few steps away and Daniel takes them deliberately and quickly, intending to end Sean's conversation as fast as possible. Brody wasn't fucking joking when he warned them about the possibility of their phones being tracked. Daniel grips the sliding door handle with his power and is about to pull it open, but in that moment the TV screen catches his attention and he stops and stares. Sean turned the volume down, so it's not surprising that he didn't notice it at first, but the pictures alone give him a pretty good idea of why Sean is so distressed now.
It's their photos shown on the news, the ones taken for the last yearbook where Sean wears a forced little smile and Daniel outright glares into the camera, and the caption underneath them is 'Seattle Bombing Suspects Seen in Pierce County'. Daniel frowns and concentrates on the buttons below the screen to turn the volume up since he can't see the remote. He does that in time to catch an emotionless female voice reading out the last of the news report.
"-whereabouts are still unknown, but the victims of the robbery and assault at the gas station in Pierce County this afternoon confirmed that the two young perpetrators fit the brothers' descriptions. Thus, there might be a chance that they are headed south. Oregon authorities have been notified in advance should they cross the state border. If you have any information about Sean or Daniel Diaz, please call your local police tip line or the special hotline at-"
Daniel presses the off button so hard it sinks completely into the cheap plastic and stays there. The TV screen blinks off. Fuck this shit.
He walks onto the balcony, sliding the door open with a little too much force. Sean jumps and whirls around to face him.
"Daniel-!" he exclaims and hastily rubs away the tears that are streaming down his cheeks.
"Who is that?" Daniel goes straight to the point, marching closer and crossing his arms over his chest.
"It's- It's Dad," Sean admits guiltily and shifts against the wooden railing that's digging into his back. "I saw the news and couldn't- They questioned him, about us!" he says with desperation and gazes at him in silent plea. Daniel gets lost in his eyes for a second, searching for hidden hate or disgust and not finding any. Then Sean blinks and says into the speaker, "Yes, yes, he's right here with me, I, wait-," he glances at Daniel, uncertain. "He wants to talk to you, will you-?"
Daniel grabs the phone out of his outstretched hand.
"Dad," he says tensely, waiting for a familiar disappointed tone and a stream of reproaches.
"Oh, Daniel, gracias a Dios, estás bien," instead Dad just sounds worried beyond measure and takes a wet shaky breath before continuing. Was he actually crying? "Your phone was off all this time, I feared you got seriously hurt and that you two were separated."
"No, we're fine," nevermind that Sean was drugged at a party and then assaulted by a racist redneck.
"Sean told me what happened at Derek's house, and at the gas station," ah, here it comes. "I didn't want to believe what they showed on the news, all those poor kids and that old man, Daniel, how could you lose control like that," Daniel's grip on the phone tightens, "but listen to me, hijo, you can't let the police take you, either of you."
"What?" okay, that was unexpected.
"Sean will explain it to you, we shouldn't be talking too long," Dad says in a hurry, like he's afraid their conversation is being recorded. Hell, what if it actually is? Should he hang up? "I just need you to promise me something," Dad's words cut through Daniel's panicked thoughts.
"What is it?" he asks, brisk and sharp, preparing himself for another stupid rule that Dad wants to push on him even when he's a hundred miles away.
"Look out for yourself and protect your brother, whatever it takes," the way Dad says the last bit leaves no room for doubt, he refers to Daniel's power.
"You don't need to tell me that," Daniel grits out, irritated for some reason. Which is, perhaps, the fact that Dad chooses to acknowledge him only in a freaky situation like this.
"Good, and Daniel," Dad calls, making sure he has his attention. "Please, remember that I will always love you, no matter what."
Daniel stiffens. Dad often says that, both seriously and in passing, but this time it rings differently, and Daniel imagines it's because Dad knows that if they make it out of this mess, they will never be the same. Especially him.
Daniel swallows with some difficulty and glances over at Sean who stands barely two feet away and watches him with a peculiar solemn expression. Daniel's temples tingle a little, which means that Sean can probably read him like an open book. It doesn't bother him as much as it would have a week ago. And yet it makes him feel exposed.
"Whatever," he mutters into the speaker, then takes a good swing and sends the phone flying over the railing towards the grassy beach.
"Daniel, what are you- No!" Sean screams and grabs at his arm a moment too late. Daniel closes his hand into a fist and there's a distant soft crackling noise of Sean's phone breaking into several pieces and scattering across the sand. "Why did you do that, you asshole! I didn't even get to say goodbye!" Sean pushes him hard and hits him in the side. Daniel tries not to flinch at the dull pain.
"We should've got rid of our phones ages ago," he says and walks back into the room with Sean hot on his heels.
"I know, alright? And I would've done that after I called Lyla, she finally texted me, she was in the hospital for two days, then her mom took away her phone and-"
"Seriously?" Daniel grabs his own phone from the nightstand. Sean's eyes latch onto it and Daniel doesn't have to be a mind-reader to understand that he wants to take it and do exactly what he planned. Anger bubbles in Daniel's stomach and tightens his chest. "You think she'll be happy to chat with you if she learns about what we did?"
Sean stares at him like at a complete idiot.
"I'm not going to-"
"So you're going to lie to her again," Daniel interrupts him. "About something that put her in the hospital. Well, go ahead."
Sean falls silent and looks away. His mind is heavy and unsettled, but Daniel decides to push him until he finally gets it.
"You know what I think?" he begins, stepping closer to Sean, who takes a step back and scowls down at his sneakers. "I think you better forget about all of your 'friends' because they will never accept you the way you really are."
"Don't say that!" Sean glares at him. His eyes burn with determination and his anger sends a warm shiver up Daniel's arms, as if encouraging him to act in response. The sensation is weird but not entirely unpleasant. "You never bothered to get to know them, or anyone for that matter, so how can you possibly know?" Sean closes the distance between them as he speaks and jabs a finger in his chest.
"And how can you?" Daniel shoots back. Sean's determination visibly falters. "If you're so convinced they'll accept you, why did you put off calling Lyla then?" Daniel presses on, watching Sean's tense shoulders sag and his eyes become softer, lost and full of doubt.
"I just- I wanted to call Dad first, I didn't-" he mumbles, shaking his head.
"Are you sure?" Daniel doesn't say it to be mean, he simply wants Sean to see that he can't rely on someone who he fears might push him away if they learn the truth about him.
Daniel won't ever push him away. Not anymore.
He raises his hand with the phone, lets it float above his palm for a bit and then throws it out through the open balcony door, blasting it when it gets far enough. Sean jumps a little when that happens and glares moodily at the charger that lies on the table, still plugged in. Looks like they can throw it out too.
"You remember that one time in Beaver Creek when you ran away?" Daniel asks. Sean's head jerks up in surprise and Daniel wonders if he buried that memory so deep he convinced himself it never happened. "That was the scariest day of my life," Daniel admits with a hollow chuckle and sits heavily onto one of the beds. "I bet it was for Dad too."
"I know, it was very stupid of me," Sean says, sincerely apologetic even after so many years. But that's not why Daniel brought it up.
"No shit," he pats the mattress beside him. Sean hesitates for only a second before walking over and sitting down. "Remember the promise we made after I found you in the woods?" Daniel catches Sean's downcast gaze and holds it to see his reaction. Sean frowns at first but then his features brighten in realisation.
"We agreed that," he starts slowly, searching his memory for the exact words. "That no one will stand between Super Wolf Bros?"
"Yes," Daniel grins at him. "You got too jealous of Chris building that fort with me all day and took off."
"Hey, it wasn't like that," Sean protests but his cheeks flush nonetheless.
"Yeah, yeah, but I really meant it back then," he nudges Sean with his shoulder. "Nobody should come between us, cause we're the best team. We don't need anyone else."
Sean studies him quietly for a while, then shrugs. His next question comes out more like a statement.
"You think we're doomed to hurt everyone we care about?" and this isn't something that Daniel wanted to dwell upon, like ever. But since Sean mentioned it.
"Don't be ridiculous, we're not doomed to do anything, we're free to choose for ourselves," he says what he believed in since they moved and started a new, 'better' life in Seattle. "And if somebody wants to control us or judge us for who we are, then screw them."
"But what about Chris?" Sean speaks up, tugging at a loose strand in the hem of his hoodie. "He was our friend and liked us enough, and still-"
"Listen, we can't change that now, can we?" Daniel huffs in irritation, takes a deep breath to calm down and continues firmly. "We need to move forward."
Sean nods, shifting nervously beside him, and pulls out Dad's old lighter from his pocket.
"Dad said we should go to Puerto Lobos," he says, tracing the crest engraved on the faded metal. Daniel stares at it, puzzled.
"What? To his old hometown? In Mexico?"
"Yeah, I mean," Sean rubs the back of his head in thought. "He didn't say it directly, but-"
"Wait, what's up with that? You said he'd been interrogated and he didn't want to explain anything to me," Daniel notices how Sean tenses at the reminder.
"He suspects his phone has been tapped because the cops who came to talk to him about us, they were," Sean reaches to rub at his temples and almost dislodges the band aid from his eyebrow, but Daniel catches his wrist in time. "Right, uh, thanks, so," he drops his hands in his lap, but they don't stay idle there either, pulling at his sleeves and twisting the fabric. "Dad said those guys wanted to know how the explosion happened exactly and showed him that video from the news, and when Dad said he didn't know and insisted that we had nothing to do with it they asked about the explosions in Beaver Creek, and, like, drew parallels and shit," Daniel can't put up with his agitated fiddling and grabs one of Sean's hands in his.
'It's okay, take your time,' he sends a thought out to Sean, trying to accommodate to his hectic mind that he senses much stronger through their link.
'They might know about us,' from the swirling droning mass of fears and worries surfaces the most obvious conclusion. 'But even if they don't, they might find out soon, and then-,' what Daniel gets next are not verbal thoughts but vivid pictures that chill the blood in his veins and make him squeeze Sean's hand harder.
"No!" he startles Sean out of his fatalistic musings. "None of this will happen to us, I promise, I won't let this happen."
"Daniel-"
"No, listen to me Sean, as long as we are together, we got this, like at the gas station," Sean glances at him in a way that screams 'Don't go there,' but Daniel ignores it, "You sensed that we were about to get in trouble, I dealt with it and we got away."
"Daniel, you broke the guy's arms, it was- You can't seriously think that-"
"That he deserved it? Oh, I do, he totally fucking deserved it," Daniel drops Sean's hand to gesture at his patched up brow.
"It's just a small cut, it's not that big of a-"
"Don't," Daniel doesn't want Sean to ever think that it was nothing, let alone give excuses for the sick prick's actions out loud. "You know what he wanted to do with us better than me, you heard him perfectly well, didn't you?"
"Yes, but it doesn't mean he should've suffered so much," Sean insists and stands up, immediately starting to pace. And Daniel feels that this is the time to ask him. To pose the question that's been eating at him for several hours straight. To learn if Sean believes that he's gone too far to forgive him.
But Daniel chickens out and doesn't say anything. Like he didn't say what was really important to Dad before he crushed Sean's phone. Because he's not half as brave as he tries to appear.
Only he forgets that with Sean he doesn't always need to use words. Shit.
Sean stops pacing, and somehow that makes Daniel more anxious. He stares at the ugly flowery print on the bedspread and hears his heartbeat drumming in his ears.
"I know why you did it," Sean says quietly, and Daniel listens with bated breath. "I still don't get it, but I know what you felt then, and-," Sean comes to stand right in front of him. Daniel doesn't dare to glance past the wolf on his hoodie. "I'll never think of you...like that," he whispers, acutely uncomfortable to be saying it at all and probably afraid that he's breaching Daniel's privacy or something.
Meanwhile Daniel couldn't be happier, he got his answer without even having to ask. And Sean isn't mad at him, isn't disgusted. He's amazing actually and Daniel wants to hug him, like right this instant. But Sean takes a step back.
"It's just that," he huffs in frustration and sits on the bed opposite him. "Of course, I've known you all my life, but sometimes it feels like you're a completely different person and I-," Sean runs his hands through his hair on impulse. "I'm not sure what to make of you and- and how to act around you!" the more he speaks, the more exasperated he sounds. Daniel doesn't like where this is going. "I mean, why did you need to steal so much shit from that store? And even from Brody! I saw you taking something from his dashboard, and he was the only decent dude we've met so far!"
Sean's reprimanding tone reminds Daniel a lot of Dad, but the fact that he's getting so worked-up over what he did hurts more than the words themselves.
"First of all, we will need that shit to survive in the woods-" he begins, righteously angry, but Sean doesn't seem to be listening.
"And okay, fine, I get stealing, it gives you a thrill or whatever it is that your mind is doing when you know you're getting away with it, feels itchy like hell, but tell me honestly," at this point Sean looks positively distraught and Daniel gets an inkling that he won't be prepared for his next question. "Did you sell drugs at school?"
"What," whatever Daniel thought he was expecting, it wasn't that. He stares at Sean dumbly for a couple of seconds, hoping that his brother is joking. He's not. "Of course not! How the fuck did you come up with that?"
Sean watches him very closely for a moment, and there's a faint tickling sensation at the back of Daniel's neck. Sean is trying to tell if he's lying. Oh for fuck's sake.
"Seriously, dude, what the hell, I never did anything like that, I swear," finally Sean relaxes a bit, which means he must believe him. Not that it makes Daniel feel any better.
"Fuck, sorry, I don't know why I- It was the first thing they said on the news," he explains helplessly and glances up at the TV.
"What, that I'm a drug dealer?" Daniel finds it ridiculous, but after everything else they've been accused of he won't be surprised.
"No, that several people were sent to ER with a bad reaction to some drugs they could've taken without knowing because-"
"Their drinks were spiked," Daniel fucking knew that. If someone got into the hospital because of it, no wonder Sean felt so bad only after a couple of sips.
"Yeah, apparently," he mumbles. "And they think it was us who did it," at that Daniel's eyes go wide and then narrow into a glare. The lights in the room start to blink and small junk goes up in the air. "No, Daniel, wait- Calm down, please," Daniel doesn't listen and stands up. The screen of the TV cracks, as well as the glass of the balcony door.
"They what now?" he growls. "How can it be our fault! You got hurt because of that shit! Everything went to hell because of it! And instead of looking for the fucker who did it they just want to blame it all on us?" if he let his rage loose, like he really wants to, the paper-thin walls of this dingy motel would've been blown away already.
"Come on, Daniel, you need to calm down," Sean stands up too and carefully inches towards him, eyeing him like a ticking bomb ready to explode. Daniel screws his eyes shut and presses at them with the heels of his palms hard enough to see stars. It helps him to ground himself a little. Then Sean wraps his arms around him and the burning need to break something subsides completely. He lets out a long breath, the things that got lifted clatter down all at once.
They stand in the middle of the messy room until Sean speaks up again.
"I'm sorry I thought you had anything to do with it," he lets him go, and although Daniel kinda misses his warmth and proximity already, he really wants to know.
"Why did you then?" Sean hesitates, fearing he might flip again, but he won't. He knows how to keep himself under control. "Come on, what else did they say? It can't be any worse," he says and realises that it probably can.
"They showed a picture of that shady dude from our school that everybody knows is dealing, the one who's repeating eleventh grade for the second time," Sean waves a hand like it will make more sense to him that way. Unfortunately, it does.
"You mean Barry?" it slips out faster than Daniel can stop himself.
"So you do know him?" Sean stares at him with rekindled suspicion.
"No! I mean, I do, but not like that," Sean doesn't look fully convinced, so Daniel decides to get to the bottom of this before it blows out of proportion and Sean suspects him of selling crystal meth behind his back. "What does he have to do with any of it?"
"Well, he got busted and gave a statement that you bought shit from him before going to the party," Sean says quickly, hoping to make it sound less lousy than it does.
"That fucker," Daniel angrily bites his lip to distract himself from how his hands are itching to crush something. Barry's stupid head, for example. "I knew I shouldn't have dealt with him."
"What? Wait, you bought something from him after all?" Sean actually gasps when he says that, and Daniel would love to make fun of him for it but now is not the time.
"No! I mean, not exactly," Sean is clearly about to start shouting at him again, so Daniel hurries to explain. "Look, I made him buy something for me online, and promised not to tell on him when he did, okay?"
"What did you need to buy that Dad couldn't get you?" Sean asks, both perplexed and faintly alarmed.
"It was just- uh, wait, I'll show you," Daniel feels nervous, walking over to his backpack, which ended up landing on the nightstand after his little freak-out. He better come clean with Sean, since it came up like this. He unzips the inside pocket, pulls out the small leather case and hands it over to his brother.
Sean takes it with a confused expression and slowly opens it. His brows furrow and he stares at the contents for a good minute before looking back up.
"Are these…?"
"Lock picks, yeah," Daniel rubs his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. The room got quite chilly though, with the balcony door ajar. Daniel waves a hand it its direction to slide it shut. He misses his hoodie, which must be in the bathroom and still very much wet.
"Did you use them to actually-?"
"No! Well, I only picked a lock of a scrap yard fence," he says before Sean can jump to conclusions. "Like, a couple of times," he admits reluctantly.
"Daniel!" Sean throws the lock picks back at him like they are swarming insects. "That's what I was talking about, how many things are there that you kept from me and Dad?"
Daniel takes his time putting the case away, zipping his backpack and setting it down beside the bed. That way he doesn't need to meet Sean's accusing gaze right away.
"Not much," he says, finally turning around. Sean is frowning. "For real though, you won't learn any more scary shit about me in the near future."
"Wow, how reassuring," Sean rolls his eyes, then flops down on the bed, takes out Dad's lighter again and starts turning it around.
"I'm serious," somehow getting Sean to believe him becomes Daniel's top priority. "I won't hide anything from you again, I promise."
Sean glances at him, sighs, and sits up.
"Okay," he grows quiet for a bit before continuing. "I don't blame you for not telling me," he might be saying that but he sounds dejected. "I wasn't putting much effort into changing how things got between us."
"Hey," Daniel wishes Sean would stop blaming himself for that. Because it was never his fault, not really. "Don't think too much about it," he kicks off his shoes and settles on the bed. "We're gonna catch up real quick, you'll see," he says and sends Sean a little reassuring smile.
It takes Sean a few moments, but he ends up smiling at him in return.
Then Daniel changes the subject.
"So we're going to Puerto Lobos?" Sean glances at the lighter that he still holds tightly in his hand.
"Dad said to go to the place where wolves are always welcome," he shows Daniel the little wolf on the metal case. "Where else could it be."
"He did mention he still has a plot of land in Mexico," Daniel remembers.
"And that he's totally going there after he retires," Sean shrugs and falls back with a tired oof.
"Guess we'll get there before him," Daniel lies down as well, rolling on his side so that he faces Sean, who sprawls out on top of the covers and throws one arm over his eyes.
"Yeah, I guess," he mumbles, already sounding sleepy.
"Then Puerto Lobos it is," Daniel says and switches off the lights with his power. 'Goodnight, Sean,' he sends out and gets a soft and sluggish, 'Goodnight,' in reply.
Tomorrow morning, at the ass-crack of dawn, they will decide on their future course of action and catch an early Verybus that will take them a little bit closer to their new destination and a little bit further from the huge mess they left behind. But right now all they need is some rest from this bullshit, and Daniel embraces it while he can.
Because in the middle of the night he shoots up in bed, wide awake from another nightmare where his brother lies limply in a pool of his own blood as Hank Stamper lands hit after hit on his motionless body.
Daniel struggles to keep quiet and not wake him up, and spends an hour or so listening to Sean breathing, which reminds him of the days when they used to share a room. Sean's proximity always had a calming effect on him.
Eventually Daniel dozes off again, and for the rest of the night he doesn't dream at all.