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“You’re not FBI, you’re not a magician- you’re nothing, really.”
Dylan froze, and Daniel knew his blow had struck. Dylan’s mouth opened, but he could only stare wordlessly at one of the very people he’d given his career, his life, his everything for. He blinked and drew back, retreating from Daniel as though physical distance could take the poison from his words.
It couldn’t.
He turned then, resigned, defeated. He didn’t see the flicker of remorse cross Daniel’s features. He didn’t feel the sharp twist of jagged guilt rip through the younger man’s heart. He didn’t see Daniel, for the first time in his life, suffer the pain of regret.
Daniel’s vision darkened. When again he opened his eyes, he saw before him a rushing, dark river, black as pitch. His heart pounded in his chest- he moved to jump into the water, though he couldn’t recall why he was so desperate. But as he leapt forward, his feet remained behind as though rooted to the spot. He screamed in frustration as the river seemed almost to creep away from him, inches at first, then by feet- until it was nearly half a horizon from where he lay stuck to the ground.
Tears streamed down his face and his chest ached with grief. Over the scene, sounding at once far away and yet so close it was in his very head, an all-consuming voice proclaimed, “You’re nothing, really.”
The voice was loud and sure, absolute in its superiority, in its independence. Though it was alone, it needed no one else. It wanted no one else.
The voice was Daniel’s.
“No,” he cried, his voice sounding too soft after the mockery of the one before. “Please, I was- I didn’t… you can’t be.. no… Dylan… D-”
“Dylan!”
Daniel pushed himself off the reclined seat with such a force he nearly toppled forward. A commotion from the other end of the plane failed to draw his attention from where he was catching himself on the window frame.
“Danny, what’s wrong?!”
Daniel looked up with a start to find Dylan staring at him wide-eyed, having raced from where he was sitting with the other Horsemen and going over plans for the London show. It took Dylan roughly two seconds to spot the tear tracks on the younger man’s face and to catch sight of fear in his eyes. It took him even less time to decided exactly what he should do about it.
Dylan turned his head to the others, motioning them to settle back into their seats and keep talking amongst themselves. He dropped into the seat beside Daniel as the other repositioned himself back in his makeshift bed.
Daniel rubbed furiously at his cheeks to be rid of the far too revealing tracks of moisture they harbored, though he only succeeded in making them redder than they already where. Humiliation replaced the adrenaline in his veins when he realized Dylan was still watching him much too closely.
“Sorry,” he muttered, settling back against his seat. “Just a bad dream.”
“Some bad dream,” Dylan mused. He relaxed in his seat, as well, and observed the way Daniel was fidgeting. “Wanna talk about it?”
Daniel spared Dylan a glance, then turned back towards the window. “Not particularly, it… it was nothing, you know? Just a nightmare, I can handle it.”
Dylan lifted his hands in defense. “Hey, okay, I got it. You’re a big boy, you got this- don’t have to tell me twice,” he grinned. He adjusted the chair to lean back and the footrest to move up, so he was lying alongside Daniel with the armrest between them. He settled on his back and faced the ceiling of the cabin, closing his eyes. Daniel turned his head toward him a bit.
He watched Dylan for a moment, a bit confused. There were plenty of other places to sleep, better places to sleep, on the plane. There was a little couch he could curl up on or even a panel in the wall that could be pulled down into a cot. All were better options than the awkwardly shaped chairs for catching up on lost sleep- Daniel himself had only chosen the spot because he couldn’t be bothered to move when he began to feel tired.
He licked his lips and contemplated the older man a moment more before turning onto his side and curling up to sleep again. Dylan had reasons for everything he did; it wasn’t Daniel’s job to decipher them all.
Sleep, it would seem, like an understanding for the older man’s motives, was something else destined to elude him. Daniel tensed and shifted in the uncomfortable seat; every time he felt himself drifting, an image of the black river would fill his mind and force him awake again.
Guilt gnawed at him from deep within, and Walter’s big reveal of how he’d managed to trick the Horsemen played in Daniel’s mind. His ego had caused every bad thing that had befallen them since the Occta show- it had even nearly killed Dylan. Daniel could only assume the image of the river was his mind’s way of not letting him forget his involvement in the near-death of the Horsemen’s courageous leader.
He opened his eyes in defeat and was shocked to discover the cabin lights had been dimmed.
Guess I did manage to sleep? Wasn’t very restful. Daniel let out a small whine and squirmed in discontent.
Suddenly, from behind, a small pressure settled against his back. It rubbing soothingly and sent a glowing warmth through Daniel’s body.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it- the dreams you’ve been having.” a voice whispered. Daniel didn’t have to turn his head to know that Dylan was awake in the seat beside his. “But I think it would make things easier on you if you did.”
Daniel’s breathing evened as Dylan continue stroking his back. So that's why you stayed over here, he mused, almost bitterly, to "talk".
The younger magician curled and uncurled his fingers against the seat-back in front of him, then closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Dylan’s hand stopped moving for a moment, like Daniel’s words had shocked him.
“Sorry?” he asked, voice still low, “Sorry for what?”
Daniel opened his eyes and shifted in his seat, forcing Dylan’s hand off. He turned onto his back, but still did not face the older man. He couldn’t.
He stared for a moment at the ceiling of the cabin, gathering his thoughts, before stating evenly, “You heard Walter. You know ‘for what’.”
Dylan let out a breath. “Danny, look at me,” he commanded softly.
Daniel remained staring stoically at the ceiling.
“Daniel Atlas.”
At the sudden shift in Dylan’s voice from soft and gentle to hard and commanding, Daniel turned his head to find the man was no longer lying on his back. He was turned on his side and facing the younger man, propped on his elbow. His brows were knitted together and his eyes were dark and stormy.
“Danny,” Dylan continued, his voice losing its harsh edge and his face softening once more, “you can’t let what that psychotic brat said get to you, okay? Yeah, you made a mistake- we all make those sometimes. I know you’ve got this perfectionist complex but-“
“But when the other’s make mistakes it doesn’t almost cost someone else their life,” Daniel interjected solemnly. He turned onto his side, the better to face Dylan so that he could understand just how much Daniel was tearing himself up about this. Just how much guilt and regret and pain he felt over the price of his own ego.
Dylan frowned and settled back onto the chair, letting his arm curl beneath his head. “Okay, but hey, Atlas, remind me again who jumped in and pulled me up from the bottom of that river?” he mused. “What was his name, again? Tanner or Donny or De-”
“Okay, okay!” Danny interrupted once more, a reluctant smiling pulling at his lips. It faded slowly as he replied, “That still doesn’t make what happened okay, though. I put everyone at risk, I almost got you killed- even when you caught up with me at the market, and I had to the chance to turn back, I just kept going. Kept believing I was right and you were wrong, kept thinking I was good enough and smart enough to do the job on my own… I’m sorry for that, Dylan, I just… I don’t know how to even begin making up for this mess.”
“You don’t have to make up for anything. You know where you went wrong, and you’ve learned from it- that’s all anyone can ask,” Dylan assured, reaching his free hand forward and letting it rest on Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel thought the contact was odd, yet comforting, and he was surprised to find his body didn’t even tense at the older man’s touch.
“You’re a part of this, Danny. You’re a Horsemen. That means that, good or bad, you’re a piece of what makes this group work, you’re essential. It means that, even when you slip, when you have a bad day, when you spill a little milk- no matter what happens, we’re behind you. We’re there to clean up the mess,” he continued, his voice soft and careful and the same look in his eye as he’d given Daniel at the river. “Do you know why?”
Daniel didn’t answer, but shifted closer to Dylan as though the proximity would make his words easier to absorb. Perhaps, even, easier for Daniel to believe.
“Because we care about you, Danny,” Dylan whispered, as though it was the world’s most important secret. “Because you’re the brother Merritt’s never could be, the friend Lula’s never had, the idol Jack’s always needed. You’re everything everyone needs you to be, and you always have been.”
Daniel shifted, sensing words left unspoken on Dylan’s tongue. He edged closer still to the older man, their faces now mere inches apart.
“So what am I to you?”
“To me?” Dylan asked quietly, a soft smile on his lips. He paused a moment, a conflicted look passing briefly over his features. Daniel almost pulled away, thinking perhaps his closeness was making Dylan uncomfortable.
Dylan never gave him the chance. Slowly, deliberately, he moved forward, watching Daniel for any sign that what he was about to do was not okay by the younger man. He gave him no such indication, and, with all the gentleness and care he possessed, Dylan closed his eyes and pressed his lips softly against Daniel’s.
Warmth burst from Daniel’s chest as he closed his own eyes, embracing the kiss. He’d not been surprised by Dylan’s move, as the man had given him enough warning. He moved as close to Dylan as the armrest between them would allow and wrapped his arm around the man’s side. He tilted his head and pressed harder against Dylan’s mouth, almost begging for the kiss to be deepened.
He nearly whined as the comforting press of Dylan’s lips against his own was drawn away. Dylan’s smile returned and he moved to allow their foreheads to rest against one another.
“To me,” he whispered, so much sincerity in his voice that it almost sounded broken, “you’re my everything. So next time you go beating yourself up over the one time in your life you lost control, you remember how this feels, right now. You remember how much you mean to every damn person on his plane- how much you mean to me.”
Daniel tightened his arm around Dylan’s waist and didn’t bother fighting the blush that dusted his cheeks a light crimson. Dylan pressed another gentle kiss against his lips, again soft and chaste. He knew Daniel was still a little too bruised over what happened in Macau for it to be right for him to press the man for anything more than a kiss at the moment, though he hoped it would be in their near future.
Daniel was more prepared for Dylan’s pulling away this time and only smiled softly, a part of him genuinely surprised at how good the man was at chasing away the hurt Daniel had been carrying since the fiasco at the market. Both knew that sooner or later, they’d have to discuss this new shift in their relationship; but, for now, their arms remained tangled as both settled against the cushioned chair backs, their legs shifting to touch as well.
“Now, try to sleep, alright? We’ve got a couple more hours until London and almost day before we’ve got to start prepping for the show,” Dylan pressed, his hand rubbing soothingly over Daniel’s shoulder. He stopped only to reach down to the blanket that had long since been pushed past the younger’s thighs, and pulled it over them both. He set his hand back against Daniel’s arm and continued his stroking motion as his eyes slowly closed.
Daniel contemplated him for a moment before calling softly, “Know what?”
Dylan hummed in response, his eyes remaining closed. Daniel’s own eyes seemed to grow heavy and begin to close as well as he let out a gentle, relieved breath- his first since before the Occta show, what felt like a lifetime past.
With the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips from the burden that had just been eased from his heart, he whispered into the silence words he’d known to be true for some time now, yet he’d never dared to say aloud.
“You’re my everything, too.”