hockey fic: Long Way Home
Title: Long Way Home
Author: girl_wonder
Summary: Dan and Ryan are doing all right.
Danny screams something inarticulate and then launches himself over Ryan’s shoulder, vaulting so hard that Ryan finds himself with a second mouthful of dirt in as many seconds. When he looks up, there’s Dan, hands working fast and brutal. He can’t see Dan’s eyes, but the look must be there, that icy look that turns him from good ol’ blue eyed boy into something colder, something more vicious.
It’s over by the time Ryan gets up and has his weapon ready. He’s half way to complaining, when he sees the bite on Danny’s arm. It’s barely there, an imprint of teeth, and Ryan has out the rubbing alcohol and is pouring it straight onto Danny’s arm. It’s a waste, it’s too much when a little would suffice, but Ryan doesn’t care, he just wants the wound clean in maybe time.
Danny’s whole face goes white, and he’s watching Ryan clean the wound but his body’s frozen, his eyes keep staring at the wound. Finally, the whole area’s clean and Ryan leans forward, touching the skin gently, pinching it, looking for any hint of blood.
“Maybe...” he trails off. There’s not much to say to the situation. It was definitely a bite and there’s no telling how long they have.
“I want to go home,” Danny says, his voice cracking on the last word. “I want to go home.”
“Okay,” Ryan says. He looks into Danny’s eyes, Danny’s wide eyes and his pale face. Danny’s skin usually looks slightly tan, even though they haven’t been anywhere near a beach in months. Now it looks grey, almost green.
“I mean back, back to Welland,” he says.
Ryan swallows. He looks down at the bite mark on Danny’s arm and his fingers squeeze again, trying to push out the bacteria he knows is working its way into Danny’s system.
“Okay,” his voice feels small. His whole body feels small. He can’t let go of Danny’s arm.
*****
That night Danny’s feverish with his movements. He’s desperate and clingy and wants to kiss and lick and Ryan lies back and lets him do what he wants. Ryan wants to curl up into a ball and let Danny cover him with his body. He wants to let Ryan press him down into their mattress until all that’s left is a Ryan-shaped imprint on Danny’s body.
*****
There’s a Jeep on the end of the street and at first light, they throw everything they own into it and drive. Danny’s driving from memory and Ryan’s found a partial map of the Northeast coast they can use. It won’t help when they actually get closer to the border, but he likes to think he knows where they’re going.
They stop after two hours at an abandoned gas station. He lets Danny figure out the gas situation and he breaks a window to get in for snacks. There are chips and warm sodas and he picks up a handful of slim jims just for the familiarity.
He dumps all of it, the snacks and two first aid kits he finds into the backseat. In the rearview mirror he can see Danny filling up the tank with a jimmy rigged vacuum they made when the power went out. Danny’s moving steady and quiet, the way he used to move on the ice. His arm is bandaged.
Ryan closes his eyes and leans against the window.
The door slams when Danny gets into the car. The whole car squeals as it shifts and accommodates Danny’s weight.
“Maybe a day or so of driving,” Danny says. He starts the motor. The smell of gasoline is strong and Ryan can hear the slosh of gas in the tanks behind him.
“You remember when we first met,” Danny starts. Ryan doesn’t open his eyes.
“Yeah, you’ve told it enough times,” Ryan says, irritated. He wants to forget even though it’s not even his memory, it’s his memory of the stories that Danny tells about the bus and about eye contact and about something much sweeter than they got.
“I meant later. I meant you remember when we started fucking,” Danny says, his voice short. It’s not even a question. It’s a statement wrapped in a question.
“I remember,” Ryan says. He opens his eyes. They’re traveling fast, past burnt out cars and shot out buildings. There’s graffiti on a road sign but they’re gone before he can see it.
“I always thought that we’d get out of this,” Danny says finally. “I mean, I thought that after all of the shit we’d end up... getting out of this.”
When Ryan looks over, Danny’s got one hand on the wheel, gripping it tight, his knuckles white. He’s not looking at Danny and his other arm hangs along the open window.
Ryan lets it lie for a while and then says, quietly. “Yeah, me, too. I thought we’d... get out of it, too.”
He reaches over and squeezes Danny’s arm over the bandage.
******
They stop at a bank, because banks usually have good security and double, triple the protections of normal houses. They break in with the master key that Ryan stole from a corpse two months back and then lock up behind them, closing the door and the grating and the blinds on top of that.
The couch in the manager’s office isn’t nearly big enough for either of them, but Ryan takes the pillows from it and then pushes Danny down on top of them. He takes off Danny’s clothes layer by layer and Danny ends up yanking him up finally for a kiss as Ryan’s palm burns from the stiff polyester carpet. His knees ache and his whole body feels light, like if Danny started floating away, Ryan wouldn’t be able to pull him back to earth.
After, Ryan pulls out their blankets and they wait for morning. They don’t hear any sounds outside, but that doesn’t mean much.
*****
They cross to Welland by boat. There’s no one at the harbor to meet them, and Ryan’s only got a few weeks of sailing lessons when he was 16 under his belt, but the motor boat seems easy enough once they manage to get it started.
Ryan watches Danny grow paler and paler. They get to shore and Danny collapses onto the dock. His chest is heaving and Ryan watches for a moment of horrified terror. What will he do if Danny changes right here.
Finally, he reaches down, helps Danny up with an arm under his shoulder.
“Let’s go,” he says. “We’re home.”
Author: girl_wonder
Summary: Dan and Ryan are doing all right.
Danny screams something inarticulate and then launches himself over Ryan’s shoulder, vaulting so hard that Ryan finds himself with a second mouthful of dirt in as many seconds. When he looks up, there’s Dan, hands working fast and brutal. He can’t see Dan’s eyes, but the look must be there, that icy look that turns him from good ol’ blue eyed boy into something colder, something more vicious.
It’s over by the time Ryan gets up and has his weapon ready. He’s half way to complaining, when he sees the bite on Danny’s arm. It’s barely there, an imprint of teeth, and Ryan has out the rubbing alcohol and is pouring it straight onto Danny’s arm. It’s a waste, it’s too much when a little would suffice, but Ryan doesn’t care, he just wants the wound clean in maybe time.
Danny’s whole face goes white, and he’s watching Ryan clean the wound but his body’s frozen, his eyes keep staring at the wound. Finally, the whole area’s clean and Ryan leans forward, touching the skin gently, pinching it, looking for any hint of blood.
“Maybe...” he trails off. There’s not much to say to the situation. It was definitely a bite and there’s no telling how long they have.
“I want to go home,” Danny says, his voice cracking on the last word. “I want to go home.”
“Okay,” Ryan says. He looks into Danny’s eyes, Danny’s wide eyes and his pale face. Danny’s skin usually looks slightly tan, even though they haven’t been anywhere near a beach in months. Now it looks grey, almost green.
“I mean back, back to Welland,” he says.
Ryan swallows. He looks down at the bite mark on Danny’s arm and his fingers squeeze again, trying to push out the bacteria he knows is working its way into Danny’s system.
“Okay,” his voice feels small. His whole body feels small. He can’t let go of Danny’s arm.
*****
That night Danny’s feverish with his movements. He’s desperate and clingy and wants to kiss and lick and Ryan lies back and lets him do what he wants. Ryan wants to curl up into a ball and let Danny cover him with his body. He wants to let Ryan press him down into their mattress until all that’s left is a Ryan-shaped imprint on Danny’s body.
*****
There’s a Jeep on the end of the street and at first light, they throw everything they own into it and drive. Danny’s driving from memory and Ryan’s found a partial map of the Northeast coast they can use. It won’t help when they actually get closer to the border, but he likes to think he knows where they’re going.
They stop after two hours at an abandoned gas station. He lets Danny figure out the gas situation and he breaks a window to get in for snacks. There are chips and warm sodas and he picks up a handful of slim jims just for the familiarity.
He dumps all of it, the snacks and two first aid kits he finds into the backseat. In the rearview mirror he can see Danny filling up the tank with a jimmy rigged vacuum they made when the power went out. Danny’s moving steady and quiet, the way he used to move on the ice. His arm is bandaged.
Ryan closes his eyes and leans against the window.
The door slams when Danny gets into the car. The whole car squeals as it shifts and accommodates Danny’s weight.
“Maybe a day or so of driving,” Danny says. He starts the motor. The smell of gasoline is strong and Ryan can hear the slosh of gas in the tanks behind him.
“You remember when we first met,” Danny starts. Ryan doesn’t open his eyes.
“Yeah, you’ve told it enough times,” Ryan says, irritated. He wants to forget even though it’s not even his memory, it’s his memory of the stories that Danny tells about the bus and about eye contact and about something much sweeter than they got.
“I meant later. I meant you remember when we started fucking,” Danny says, his voice short. It’s not even a question. It’s a statement wrapped in a question.
“I remember,” Ryan says. He opens his eyes. They’re traveling fast, past burnt out cars and shot out buildings. There’s graffiti on a road sign but they’re gone before he can see it.
“I always thought that we’d get out of this,” Danny says finally. “I mean, I thought that after all of the shit we’d end up... getting out of this.”
When Ryan looks over, Danny’s got one hand on the wheel, gripping it tight, his knuckles white. He’s not looking at Danny and his other arm hangs along the open window.
Ryan lets it lie for a while and then says, quietly. “Yeah, me, too. I thought we’d... get out of it, too.”
He reaches over and squeezes Danny’s arm over the bandage.
******
They stop at a bank, because banks usually have good security and double, triple the protections of normal houses. They break in with the master key that Ryan stole from a corpse two months back and then lock up behind them, closing the door and the grating and the blinds on top of that.
The couch in the manager’s office isn’t nearly big enough for either of them, but Ryan takes the pillows from it and then pushes Danny down on top of them. He takes off Danny’s clothes layer by layer and Danny ends up yanking him up finally for a kiss as Ryan’s palm burns from the stiff polyester carpet. His knees ache and his whole body feels light, like if Danny started floating away, Ryan wouldn’t be able to pull him back to earth.
After, Ryan pulls out their blankets and they wait for morning. They don’t hear any sounds outside, but that doesn’t mean much.
*****
They cross to Welland by boat. There’s no one at the harbor to meet them, and Ryan’s only got a few weeks of sailing lessons when he was 16 under his belt, but the motor boat seems easy enough once they manage to get it started.
Ryan watches Danny grow paler and paler. They get to shore and Danny collapses onto the dock. His chest is heaving and Ryan watches for a moment of horrified terror. What will he do if Danny changes right here.
Finally, he reaches down, helps Danny up with an arm under his shoulder.
“Let’s go,” he says. “We’re home.”