The Debt of Guilt [BxB]

45: after

June
1995

Danny spent the next two days in hospital, and Peter didn't move from his bedside for the duration of it. He sat quietly in the uncomfortable plastic chair by Danny's side, sometimes dozing off and waking up with aches in his neck. They didn't talk much. For the most part, Danny just slept, and Peter just watched him. Sometimes Danny would jolt awake and in a moment of panic, desperately reach out for Peter's hand. He always found it, and wordlessly drifted back to sleep, their fingers laced together.

After he was discharged, not much changed. The difference was, he slept in his own bed now, curled up beneath the covers, knotted blond curls splayed across the pillow like a halo around his head. Another difference was that Peter didn't nap in a chair by his side, but in Danny's bed with him, limbs tangled up with Danny's, body heat mingling together. It reminded him of being fifteen again, huddled together for warmth because Peter's Mother couldn't afford heating during the winter months.

One morning, with the sun filtering through the blinds, Danny turned over and could have sworn he was sharing a bed with Scott. Because with Peter's face drenched in golden sunlight, eyes closed, expression soft, and hair falling into his face, he looked just like him. But Danny's heart didn't ache for that image so much anymore. He still missed Scott - he thought that he probably always would. But it was Peter who lay beside him, their skin always touching, their quiet gazes always saying so much, even if their mouths never opened to say a single word. And Danny wouldn't change that for anything - not even for Scott.

That same morning was the morning when Andrea sat at the end of his bed, gaze flicking between the two boys, who stirred into consciousness, blinking away the sunlight. She had been around a lot recently, always with an expression that suggested she wanted to reach out and touch Danny to check that he was real, but she was too nervous to do anything of the sort. When they came to life and sat up in bed, she gave them a sympathetic smile, "It's reached the papers, I'm sorry." She said softly.

Danny sighed; he'd been waiting for this. "What are they saying?"

"Just that it was a drug overdose, but you're okay." She explained.

He nodded in acknowledgment, "Right."

"Are you okay?" She asked tentatively. Danny was still getting used to seeing Andrea acting so soft and thoughtful with him - he was used to the stony eyed businesswomen he had known for years.

He shrugged, "Everyone was going to find out eventually."

Peter leaned into his side, knowing that his presence alone always helped ground Danny. Andrea's eyes zoned in on the movement, "I'm sorry, I have to ask..."

"We're not." Danny said tightly.

"Not what?" Peter frowned.

"We're not together." Danny said it directly to Andrea, not able to look at Peter. He didn't want Peter to see how hard those words were for him to say.

"Oh." Andrea kept her expression plain, "Okay. I just thought..." She didn't finish that sentence; she thought better of it. "I'll leave you to rest then, shall I?" She stood up.

Peter wanted to thank her. He had been meaning to thank her for days now; for coming to find Peter, even though Danny hadn't asked her to. For taking him to the hospital, making sure Danny had him at his side. But he didn't. Because the words never came. So she left in silence, and Peter said nothing.

"She really cares about you, y'know?" Peter said once they were alone again, sinking beneath the covers, burying his face back into the pillow.

Danny laid back down beside him, smiling gently, "Yeah, I know."

They hadn't done a lot of talking recently. Not since Danny went to hospital. Not since their fight. There was so much to say, and neither of them said any of it.

Peter finally decided that the silence had gotten too long, too defeaning, "Why did you do it?" He whispered, already anticipating the pain of the conversation that would surely follow.

Danny winced. He had been waiting for this, too. But just because he knew it was coming, that didn't make it any easier. "I don't know." He replied honestly.

"Danny-"

"Really, Peter." He promised, "I don't... I mean, I was high." He explained, "And I was depressed, and I... I just kept taking more and more, and I knew it was dangerous but I didn't care." The words came easier than he had expected.

Peter's honey eyes were fixed onto Danny's, "You didn't care." He echoed his words, feeling them in his entire body. They were so heavy.

Danny's eyes fell shut, "This isn't your fault." He said after a moment of silence, "I know I... I was acting a little crazy, begging you to stay and..." He gulped down the shame, "You need to know that this isn't your fault."

Peter just shook his head, "I should have stayed though." He said, "You were in pain and you needed me, and I... I left."

Years ago, Danny had let Peter believe that he was guilty of something that he wasn't. Danny vowed to never do that to him again. "This isn't your fault." He said for the third time. He would say it as many times as Peter needed him to until he believed it.

"But I-"

"Peter." Danny reached out beneath the covers, planting his hand on Peter's shoulder, fingertip grazing his hot skin, "You didn't do anything wrong. You were under no obligation to stay. Not then, and not...not now, either."

Peter's brows twitched into a frown, "You think I'm only here because I feel guilty?"

Danny sighed, removing his hand from Peter's shoulder, not missing the way Peter's eyes followed the movement, a flicker of disappointment there. "I don't know." Danny replied, "I thought...maybe..."

"I'm here because I care about you." Peter told him, "And I don't want you to be alone right now."

Danny felt the insane urge to kiss him. Not because he looked like Scott, but because he looked like Peter. Stubborn and strong and hiding all the broken parts of himself. Danny didn't, of course. He had already ruined their relationship in so many ways and it was a miracle that Peter was even here at all right now.

But it turned out that Danny didn't need to fight that urge any longer, because suddenly Peter was wrapping his fingers around Danny's upper arm and tugging him closer. Peter hesitated for a second, and then, finally, pressed their lips together. It didn't feel so self-destructive this time. It felt like relief. Like an itch that needed scratching. It was the same high Danny got from cocaine after a bad day. Except Peter was better than any drug he had ever taken.

It only lasted for a second, Peter pulling away by a couple of centimetres, their foreheads pressed together, "Sorry." He whispered, "You're still recovering; you're vulnerable, I shouldn't have-"

Danny cut him off with another kiss, still slow and soft and meaningful, "Don't ever call me vulnerable again." He mumbled into Peter's mouth.

There were so many things wrong with this. So many things that should have them recoiling from each other, running in opposite directions, shame and guilt eating them up from the inside out. But however long they waited, those feelings never came. The repulsion never quite kicked in. And instead of running, they pulled each other closer, legs tangling, eyes locked together stubbornly.

"Stay." Danny whispered, falling back against the pillow, holding Peter close.

"I'm staying." Peter murmured back sleepily.

Danny didn't think they meant it in the same way. Because Danny wanted Peter to stay forever; move in, fall deeply in love, and one day, lie in graves side by side.

But Peter built his life around temporary promises. Stay. He would stay, but not forever. Only until he got restless. Until his hatred for Danny came back, and Danny's betrayal from all those years ago became too difficult to ignore. Until then, he would stay. Of course he would. Because he loved Danny. He really did.

He just wasn't sure for how much longer.