hey, lookie, NEW fic
it's . . . disaster!fic (don't say I didn't warn you). feedback of all types welcome.
the formatting got a little wonky when I copied it over here, with a few misplaced paragraphs; please let me know if any thing seems wildly wrong.
"Danny! Let’s go." Maybe the third time would be the charm, but Casey was doubtful. Dan, deep in conversation with a pretty young production assistant, had paid scant attention to Casey’s previous efforts to get him to shut up and get a move on.
This time, though, he raised his arms in surrender. "Sorry, I’ve really got to go. Maybe we can talk again on the shoot tomorrow, okay?" And, finally, he grabbed his backpack and walked toward Casey, throwing one last grin over his shoulder.
"Danny, we were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago. The driver is about to leave without us."
"I doubt it. Driving to the shoot without us would be somewhat lacking in purpose, don’t you think?"
They walked up to the jeep, and Casey gestured at the empty front seat. "He’s gone. He has given up in despair, and gone to Australia to raise llamas. And it’s all your fault. This may seem like the wilderness, but it’s just base camp. We were supposed to leave for the cabin half an hour ago. You, Daniel, have no sense of time."
"And you, Casey, have no sense of priorities. In addition to her other charms, that young lady has a bootleg tape of an almost unknown Tom Waits performance. I couldn’t just walk away from her."
"Fine. But just for that, you’re sitting in the back."
"Alone? But I won’t have anyone to talk to."
"No, but that’s the price you pay for lollygagging."
"Lollygagging? My friend, I neither lolly nor gag."
"You do both, and you will sit in the back. Alone."
"But I won’t have anyone to talk -"
"No, you won’t. But you know you’re going to listen to your mp3 player and fall asleep anyway. And maybe we can talk once we get there." Casey opened the front door to toss in his backpack as he said that, so he wouldn’t have to look right at Dan.
"Yeah? You want to talk?"
Dan’s voice was soft, questioning, and Casey quit fiddling with the straps on his backpack and looked up at him. "Yeah, I do. I think we maybe have some things to talk about."
It was impossible for Dan to not know what he meant, but Casey tried to stay casual, tried not to sigh with relief when Dan smiled. "Yeah, I think you’re right. There are definitely things to talk about."
"I’m always right. Now get your ass in the back seat so we can go; our driver’s finally coming back."
They had a long ride ahead of them, several hours over rough terrain, but Casey didn’t mind. It would give him time to think.
Time to think about Danny, and all the things they had to talk about. They would be on location for nearly a week, shooting segments in a remote location for a network special on family adventure vacations. Plenty of time to talk, even with a rigourous shooting schedule. The rest of the crew wouldn’t even be heading to the site until the next morning, and if they made good time they might even have a pretty relaxing evening.
After a few polite remarks, Pete, the driver, fell silent and left Casey to his thoughts about Dan and their friendship. After Draft Day and their awful fight, he and Dan had worked their way right back to where they used to be. Then, it seemed, they had just kept on going.
It was little things at first. Dan didn’t take Rebecca back, and Casey didn’t resume his tortured dance with Dana. Neither of them dated anyone new, so they spent even more time than usual together.
And Dan’s sudden downward spiral had scared the hell out of Casey, so it was only natural that Casey call him more often. Check on him before and after work. Daily.
And they were both tactile people, always had been, so the hands on the shoulder and the grabbing of arms and the sitting close weren’t new things, really. And they were both verbal jousters, willing to say anything for a joke, so the things they said that could pass for flirting, those weren’t entirely new either.
None of that explained away the subtle shift in how things felt. The charged feeling in the air everytime he was with alone with Dan. And the undeniable sense that the same gestures meant something more, now.
Casey floated along for a while, not wanting to question things too closely or upset the balance of their friendship again. Just let things be, he thought. Maybe things haven’t changed as much as I think they have. Maybe Danny doesn’t want them to. Maybe I don’t want them to.
But the night Danny fell asleep sitting on his couch, and Casey pulled him gently onto his lap so he could watch him sleep, he knew that letting things be was no longer an option. When they woke up, Casey had one hand resting on Dan’s hip and the other tangled in his hair. Dan had just blinked up at him and mumbled that he was cold, and Casey had got up to cover him with the extra blanket and make coffee.
Thinking about this, and what might come next, kept Casey occupied for the first two hours of the trip. After a few requisite complaints, Dan had settled happily enough into the back seat, listening to music and eating the junk food he claimed didn’t count when you were on a road trip. He smiled every time Casey turned around to check on him, but it was far too noisy for conversation.
Casey was pulled from his reverie by a sudden lurch to one side. The whole ride had been rough, but damn, they were going to crash into a tree at this rate. He looked up just in time to see Pete’s hands fall away from the steering wheel. Casey lunged for it, felt the solid metal under his hands, but it was too late. The jeep veered wildly, and Casey gripped the steering wheel and braced his feet hard against the floor as they went over the edge of the canyon.
Everything seemed silent for a moment as Casey felt the first sickening plunge, then they slammed into the side of the canyon with a deafening crash of crunching metal. The jeep bounced one way and then another, jerking them violently. He saw a kaleidoscope of rock and sky, and the canyon seemed endless, bottomless, it seemed like they were going to hurtle downward forever, and then suddenly the jeep gave one last lurch and everything went quiet and still.
A sharp whiff of gasoline sliced through the thick, dusty air. Pete was slumped over the steering wheel, blank eyes open. The door had caved inward, and twisted metal trapped him in the seat. Casey was sure he was dead (heart attack, he must have had a heart attack), but forced himself to check for a pulse anyway. None. He could hear his own ragged breathing, feel his hands shaking as he fumbled with his seat belt and twisted around to check on Dan. "Danny, you okay? Danny?"
Dan didn’t answer. He was sprawled sideways - shit, his seatbelt hadn’t held. His eyes were closed, he was utterly still, and he almost looked like he was napping the way he always did on long car trips, almost looked like - no, not that. He was hurt, obviously, and unconscious, but he would be all right, he would be fine, Casey just had to get him out of the car and find help. Maybe the jeep would be driveable.
Damn. Maybe not. There were flames shooting from the crushed hood of the car, and there wasn’t a jeep in the world that could climb back up to the road anyway.
Casey pushed open his door and looked around. Shit. The jeep had landed on a rock ledge jutting out from the canyon walls. There was a scant six inches of flat ground surrounding it, and then an incline to the bottom of the ravine. Not far at all, but it looked like an endless distance to Casey.
Somehow he was going to have to get Dan off the ledge and down to relative safety. He climbed out of the car and pulled the back door open carefully, sucking in a breath as he saw the awkward position of Dan’s arm, blood covering the sleeve, blood soaking through the front of his shirt, blood drenching his hair. Don’t think about it, no time to check it out now, just get him out of the car.
Casey barely had enough room to stand sideways, and he tried not to think about tumbling backwards as he pulled Dan toward him and positioned him into an awkward fireman’s carry. He stepped down onto the incline carefully, the rough ground forcing him to move slowly.
When they reached the bottom, he made himself walk a bit further, wanting to be a safe distance away from the precariously balanced jeep. Then he fell to his knees and eased Dan to the ground, laying him flat. He couldn’t tell if Dan was breathing, and he felt desperately for a pulse. Okay, yes, there it was, too weak but it was there and Casey wanted to cry with relief.
He bit his lip hard, tried to steady himself so he could survey the situation. He knew he had to be banged up from the crash, but sheer adrenaline meant he didn’t feel it yet, and he didn’t seem to have any major injuries. Pete, the one person familiar with the area, was dead. His cell phone didn't have service. No one would be looking for them until morning, and it would be dark before long.
He had to somehow stabilize Danny and find shelter for the night. Glancing up at the sky, Casey tried to remember what little he knew of first aid. God, what did that poster in the break room say?
Check. Call. Care.
Check. Fuck. Check what? Breathing, check breathing first. No, check if he’s conscious first, which he’s clearly not, so on to breathing anyway. He can’t see Danny’s chest moving, but when he puts his hand in front of his face he can feel soft exhalations. He remembers to tilt Danny’s head to the side, makes sure that there’s nothing in his mouth.
Now, check for a heartbeat, and thank God he easily finds that, because he’s sure he’d never remember CPR, never be able to save Danny that way.
Check for bleeding. He doesn’t have to check too hard, because oh my God there’s blood everywhere.
Call. After you check, call for help. Not much chance of that; Casey’s on his own here. He doesn’t let himself think about how that’s really too bad for Danny, because all of Casey’s medical expertise comes from watching ER and reading work safety posters.
Care. Care for the victim if you’re trained and qualified, which Casey sure the hell is not, but he’s all Danny’s got right now, he’s got to try. All that blood, he’s got to stop the bleeding. Casey takes off his jacket and button-up shirt; uses his pocketknife to cut the shirt into strips.
He uses some of the strips to wipe away the blood coming from Danny’s head, and finds the nasty gash that’s the cause of it. The skin is gaping apart, and Casey takes a deep breath and presses it together so he can bind it closed with a strip of material. This makes Danny twitch and moan softly, an awful sound but Casey’s glad for any reaction.
Next, he takes a look at Danny’s arm, and Casey’s much too squeamish for this; he feels sick at the thought of compressing the wound he finds on Danny’s shoulder, because he’s pretty sure that Danny’s arm is broken and it’s going to hurt like hell. Fuck.
Casey grits his teeth and presses the material against the wound. Danny reacts immediately; his eyes fly open and he’s moaning, the slurred words going straight to Casey’s heart.
don’t don’t god please don’t
"Danny, Danny, it’s okay. Look at me, Danny. You’re okay, I know it hurts but I need to stop the bleeding." Casey figures it has to be good that Danny’s awake and talking, and the pressure seems to be working, slowing down the bleeding.
"Casey? What - ?"
"The jeep flipped." Danny just looks puzzled at this, so Casey elaborates. "The location shoot, remember? We were heading to the cabin, and the jeep flipped."
"Oh. You okay?"
"I’m fine, just banged up a little. Let me finish you up here, and then we need to find some shelter for the night. Do you think you can walk a little bit?"
Danny doesn’t look too sure about that, but he nods anyway, and his eyes start to flutter closed again.
"Danny! Danny, keep your eyes open. You can’t go to sleep right now." Casey’s vaguely aware that he’s using what Danny calls his dad voice, and it works. Danny frowns at him, but his eyes are open again. "You need to stay awake, just for a while. Then we’ll find you somewhere to sleep, okay?"
"Okay. Casey, what about - where’s the guy, the driver? Pete?"
Damn, he had hoped that Danny would be too out of it to think of that. Casey sidesteps the question. "Hang on, Danny, let me finish this. Let’s get that arm fixed up."
Casey actually has no idea what he’s supposed to do for a broken arm, but surely he shouldn’t just leave it dangling. He settles for bracing it against Dan’s chest, and uses his belt and the clips on Dan’s jacket to lash it in place. There’s no danger of Dan falling asleep during this; he doesn’t make a sound but his eyes go wide and his breath comes in jerky gasps, and Casey decides that medical professionals can’t possibly be paid enough.
"There, that should do it," Casey says with a confidence he doesn’t feel. "Now, let me figure out where we’re going to settle for the night."
Casey stands and looks around slowly at what would be a beautiful area under different circumstances. He had hoped to make his way back to the jeep for some supplies, but in the dusky light he can see that the fire hasn’t died out; the smoke and flames are clearly getting worse. He does find several overhangs in the canyon, one of them more than big enough to provide shelter from wind and possible rain.
Danny manages the walk okay, with Casey’s help, but suddenly stops short just as they approach the overhang, his fingers tightening their grip on Casey’s arm. He’s spotted the burning jeep.
"Casey?"
"He’s dead, Danny. I think he had a heart attack."
"Oh. But is he, is he still -?"
"Yeah." Casey turns Dan gently, leads him into the overhang. "Try not to think about it."
He thinks it’s safer to keep Dan awake, so he helps him settle into a seated position, leaning against the canyon wall. He’s dismayed to see that both of the makeshift bandages are soaked through with blood, and he stifles a curse as he pulls additional strips of material out of his pocket to reinforce them.
Danny closes his eyes the minute he sees what Casey’s going to do. It doesn’t take as much pressure this time, but he’s chalk white and trembling when it’s done.
Casey doesn’t say anything, but takes Dan’s good hand in both of his and rubs it gently until the shaking stops.
"Better?"
"Yeah, I’m okay." Dan smiles faintly and cocks his head sideways a bit, his abashed look. "Sorry, Casey."
"Sorry what? Sorry that you’re hurt? Don’t - I don’t want to hear that." And Casey leans his head forward until it’s touching Danny’s, very gently, because suddenly he has to be closer to him. He stays that way for a long moment, listening to Danny breathe, before he pulls away.
He’s suddenly wracked with thirst, and remembers that they each have a bottle of water and protein bars in their jacket pocket. He vaguely recalls some sort of rule about giving injured people water, but he can’t remember what it is and compromises on having Danny slowly sip a small amount.
The temperature’s dropping, and he doesn’t want Dan lying against the cold rock, so Casey leans against the canyon wall and has Danny lean against him.
Night comes swiftly, black and endless. He had planned on waking Dan every couple of hours in case of concussion, but he doesn’t have to. Danny jerks awake again and again with stifled cries of pain, and Casey comforts him each time with whispered words and gentle touches. The worst patch comes just before dawn, when Casey is pulled from sleep by Danny moaning and twisting restlessly. He’d had a slight fever for hours, but one quick touch of his face told Casey that it had climbed much higher.
Mumbling incoherently, he doesn’t wake or respond no matter how urgently Casey begs him to. Casey rubs his good arm, drops kisses on his neck, curses the darkness that doesn’t let him check if the bleeding has started again, doesn’t let him see enough to help if it has.
Finally, mercifully, Danny quiets back into restful sleep. Casey pulls him closer, staring into the darkness until it’s broken by streaks of dawn.
It’s full daylight before Dan stirs again. His fever is down, but the bandages are drenched with blood again, and he looks paler and sicker than ever. Casey clamps down hard on the panic he feels at the sight, and tries to smile when Danny opens his eyes.
"Hey, how do you feel?"
Dan just stares at him for a minute, then answers slowly, his voice hoarse. "I’m, uh, okay. We - the jeep, right?"
His dazed expression spikes Casey with worry. "Right. They should be looking for us by now. We might want to try to get back up to the road."
After another patch job on Dan’s bandages, they decide to survey possible paths up the cliff. Casey’s entire body feels sore, his muscles aching with every step, but Dan seems a little better, more alert, once they are up and moving. The entire canyon seems impossibly steep at first, but Casey finally finds a gentler slope that he thinks Dan can manage with some help.
"I think that’s going to be our best way up. Once we’re on the road, we can decide if we want to stay put or try to walk toward the main highway. Let’s have some breakfast, and we can get started."
Danny nods, and looks glad for the chance to sit again. His eyes keep drifting to the jeep, with its blackened hood, and Casey makes sure he sits with his back to it.
Breakfast is half a protein bar and some of the precious water for Casey. Just water for Danny, and Casey’s not sure if he should urge him to eat or not, so he lets it be for the moment. Dan looks flushed and miserable again, and Casey knows without checking that his fever is rising. He’s wondering if they should rest for a while or just get started when Danny breaks the silence.
"Casey, it might make more sense for me to wait here while you go ahead."
"What? No way, Danny. No way am I leaving you here by yourself."
"We walked around for ten minutes, and I’m tired already. I’m not going to make it too far, Casey."
"So we won’t go too far. We’ll just make it up to the road, make it easier for them to find us."
"It’s a big forest, Casey, and there’s more than one route to the cabin. They might not find us for a while, maybe not even today." Danny’s voice is quiet and steady. "You could make it back to the highway in a few hours without me, Casey. Probably make it to town before dark if no one finds you. Send somebody back for me."
"That’s - that’s not a good idea, Danny." Casey doesn’t say just how bad of an idea he thinks it is, doesn’t say just how badly he thinks it would turn out. "We should stick together."
"It’s not sticking together, Casey, it’s me slowing you down. Besides, if you go ahead, you can get me help that much quicker."
Dan’s still calm but Casey’s struggling for control. "You’re hurt, Danny, and you’re sick. You need someone with you. And I’m fine, you need to not worry about me."
"You’re fine now. But we don’t have any food, and hardly any water, and things happen, and you should, you should just go. Go while you’re still fine, please Casey."
"And leave you here alone? You can’t - I’m not going to do that, why would I do that?"
Danny’s mouth twists, and he drops his head and whispers, "Charlie."
Dan always did have a knack for cutting to the heart of a matter. Charlie. The one other person in the world Casey would gladly die for. He wonders if anyone has told Lisa he’s missing, wonders if Lisa has told Charlie.
"Charlie’s going to be waiting for me when I get back. He’s going to be waiting for both of us."
"Casey, God, please. I’ll be fine, I’ll be okay, you need to just go, please."
"Shut up, Danny, just shut up. I’m not going."
"I don’t want something bad to happen to you because of me."
"Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m going to take care of you. We’re in this together, okay? And you wouldn’t leave me, you know you wouldn’t."
"It’s not the same, Casey." Dan sighs and rubs his hand across his eyes. "I don’t have anybody waiting on me. I don’t have anyone depending on me. You know it’s not the same."
"Lots of people are waiting on you. I can’t leave you, because then I would have to tell Natalie that I did, and I’m not that brave, man. And I can’t leave you, because I love you." Danny’s staring at him, surprised into silence, and Casey decides to close the sale. He leans over and kisses Danny, whispers in his ear, "I love you, and I’ll never leave you."
He pulls back slowly, watches Danny swallow and duck his head, and smirks in satisfaction. Kissed the argument right out of him. "And now that we’ve settled that, maybe we can get this show on the road."
Casey knows they need more water to get through the day, and he hasn’t seen so much as a trickle in the canyon. It seems gruesome, and it’s definitely dangerous, but he’s going to have to go back to the jeep and see if he can find any supplies.
He has Dan move to a small overhang, so he can lean back and rest, and leaves him with firm instructions to not move. Dan rolls his eyes at the bossiness but seems inclined to comply.
Casey approaches the jeep with trepidation, but it’s not as bad as he feared. The fire had burned itself out, with most of the damage to the front end. He crosses himself at the sight, because while he was trying not to look it didn’t seem right to just stroll past Pete’s dead body.
He’s edging his way along the side of the jeep when a distinct sound grabs his attention, makes him pause. Helicopter. That was the sound of helicopter blades. The sound got louder and Casey looked up to a beautiful sight, a helicopter flying directly overhead. It circles over him, low enough for him to see the pilot wave in acknowledgment before flying away again.
They wouldn’t have to trek up to the road, wouldn’t have to wait and hope for help. Casey goes weak with relief, and has to wait for his legs to stop trembling before he heads back down the incline.
Dan’s slumped to the side when he gets back, eyes closed. When Casey gently straightens him, his skin is blazing with fever. He’s unconscious, unresponsive, but Casey whispers the good news to him anyway, tells him to hang on just a little bit longer.
The whir of the helicopter blades has faded, and everything is silent, endless minutes that can’t be calculated, until suddenly rescue workers are everywhere, shouting and rappelling down the canyon and pulling Casey away from Dan.
The helicopter returns, thick yellow rope tumbles down, a ladder to the sky. Let down your long hair, Casey thinks, and he watches as the rope is attached to the gurney that holds Dan. Watches as it lifts Dan up, pirouetting madly, spiraling up to safety.
Then it’s a blur of voices and movement, and Casey doesn’t think he falls asleep, but suddenly he’s laying down. He hears Dana’s voice, and wonders just how she got to the canyon, but when he opens his eyes he sees white ceiling tiles instead of clear blue sky.
"Casey, oh my god, you’re awake. Are you okay? Are you in pain? You’re going to be fine, the doctor said you’re going to be fine."
Doctor. Hospital. Danny.
"Danny, where’s Danny?"
"He’s right here, Casey, right here at the same hospital. He got here before you did."
"Is he okay? I want to see him. I have to see him, Dana."
Dana blinks hard at that, but her voice stays steady. She tells Casey that Dan is in surgery, and that they don’t know much yet, and other things that Casey doesn’t want to hear.
There isn’t much to be done for Casey’s collection of bruises and contusions, and the doctors cave in to his relentless insistence that he be allowed to go up to the surgery floor.
It’s still an agony of waiting, but he’s that much closer to Danny.
He doesn’t allow himself to relax even when the doctor comes out and says the surgery went well, not until he’s finally, finally allowed to go into Danny’s room and see him, touch him. He won’t leave, can’t leave, has to be there when Danny wakes up.
Which doesn’t happen until well into the next day, and it’s really another full day before Dan is anything approaching coherent. The constant stream of visitors doesn’t stop Casey from bitterly noticing the absence of Dan’s parents, and he refuses to talk to them when they call, passing the phone to Dana or Isaac each time.
It also doesn’t stop Casey from holding Dan’s hand pretty constantly, but it does keep them from any meaningful conversation. It isn’t until the third day that they even talk about what happened in the canyon. Casey has Danny’s hand clutched in his again, and he doesn’t even try to hide the trembling.
"God, Danny, I was so scared. You were hurt so bad, and I didn’t know what to do for you, how to help you."
"I’d say you did pretty good. You saved my life, Casey."
"I kind of did, huh? Do I get to hold that over you for the rest of your life?"
"No, no, I’m pretty sure there’s a statute of limitations on that." They both laugh, even though it’s not that funny, but then Dan gets quiet, and Casey can tell he’s struggling with what to say next.
"Casey, I just wanted to say - about what you said to me, um, I know everything was really intense, and maybe you didn’t, I mean it’s okay if . . ."
"God, Danny, am I going to have to tell you to shut up every single day in this relationship?" Casey leans forward and whispers, "Shut up, Danny. I love you, and I’m never going to leave you."
the formatting got a little wonky when I copied it over here, with a few misplaced paragraphs; please let me know if any thing seems wildly wrong.
"Danny! Let’s go." Maybe the third time would be the charm, but Casey was doubtful. Dan, deep in conversation with a pretty young production assistant, had paid scant attention to Casey’s previous efforts to get him to shut up and get a move on.
This time, though, he raised his arms in surrender. "Sorry, I’ve really got to go. Maybe we can talk again on the shoot tomorrow, okay?" And, finally, he grabbed his backpack and walked toward Casey, throwing one last grin over his shoulder.
"Danny, we were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago. The driver is about to leave without us."
"I doubt it. Driving to the shoot without us would be somewhat lacking in purpose, don’t you think?"
They walked up to the jeep, and Casey gestured at the empty front seat. "He’s gone. He has given up in despair, and gone to Australia to raise llamas. And it’s all your fault. This may seem like the wilderness, but it’s just base camp. We were supposed to leave for the cabin half an hour ago. You, Daniel, have no sense of time."
"And you, Casey, have no sense of priorities. In addition to her other charms, that young lady has a bootleg tape of an almost unknown Tom Waits performance. I couldn’t just walk away from her."
"Fine. But just for that, you’re sitting in the back."
"Alone? But I won’t have anyone to talk to."
"No, but that’s the price you pay for lollygagging."
"Lollygagging? My friend, I neither lolly nor gag."
"You do both, and you will sit in the back. Alone."
"But I won’t have anyone to talk -"
"No, you won’t. But you know you’re going to listen to your mp3 player and fall asleep anyway. And maybe we can talk once we get there." Casey opened the front door to toss in his backpack as he said that, so he wouldn’t have to look right at Dan.
"Yeah? You want to talk?"
Dan’s voice was soft, questioning, and Casey quit fiddling with the straps on his backpack and looked up at him. "Yeah, I do. I think we maybe have some things to talk about."
It was impossible for Dan to not know what he meant, but Casey tried to stay casual, tried not to sigh with relief when Dan smiled. "Yeah, I think you’re right. There are definitely things to talk about."
"I’m always right. Now get your ass in the back seat so we can go; our driver’s finally coming back."
They had a long ride ahead of them, several hours over rough terrain, but Casey didn’t mind. It would give him time to think.
Time to think about Danny, and all the things they had to talk about. They would be on location for nearly a week, shooting segments in a remote location for a network special on family adventure vacations. Plenty of time to talk, even with a rigourous shooting schedule. The rest of the crew wouldn’t even be heading to the site until the next morning, and if they made good time they might even have a pretty relaxing evening.
After a few polite remarks, Pete, the driver, fell silent and left Casey to his thoughts about Dan and their friendship. After Draft Day and their awful fight, he and Dan had worked their way right back to where they used to be. Then, it seemed, they had just kept on going.
It was little things at first. Dan didn’t take Rebecca back, and Casey didn’t resume his tortured dance with Dana. Neither of them dated anyone new, so they spent even more time than usual together.
And Dan’s sudden downward spiral had scared the hell out of Casey, so it was only natural that Casey call him more often. Check on him before and after work. Daily.
And they were both tactile people, always had been, so the hands on the shoulder and the grabbing of arms and the sitting close weren’t new things, really. And they were both verbal jousters, willing to say anything for a joke, so the things they said that could pass for flirting, those weren’t entirely new either.
None of that explained away the subtle shift in how things felt. The charged feeling in the air everytime he was with alone with Dan. And the undeniable sense that the same gestures meant something more, now.
Casey floated along for a while, not wanting to question things too closely or upset the balance of their friendship again. Just let things be, he thought. Maybe things haven’t changed as much as I think they have. Maybe Danny doesn’t want them to. Maybe I don’t want them to.
But the night Danny fell asleep sitting on his couch, and Casey pulled him gently onto his lap so he could watch him sleep, he knew that letting things be was no longer an option. When they woke up, Casey had one hand resting on Dan’s hip and the other tangled in his hair. Dan had just blinked up at him and mumbled that he was cold, and Casey had got up to cover him with the extra blanket and make coffee.
Thinking about this, and what might come next, kept Casey occupied for the first two hours of the trip. After a few requisite complaints, Dan had settled happily enough into the back seat, listening to music and eating the junk food he claimed didn’t count when you were on a road trip. He smiled every time Casey turned around to check on him, but it was far too noisy for conversation.
Casey was pulled from his reverie by a sudden lurch to one side. The whole ride had been rough, but damn, they were going to crash into a tree at this rate. He looked up just in time to see Pete’s hands fall away from the steering wheel. Casey lunged for it, felt the solid metal under his hands, but it was too late. The jeep veered wildly, and Casey gripped the steering wheel and braced his feet hard against the floor as they went over the edge of the canyon.
Everything seemed silent for a moment as Casey felt the first sickening plunge, then they slammed into the side of the canyon with a deafening crash of crunching metal. The jeep bounced one way and then another, jerking them violently. He saw a kaleidoscope of rock and sky, and the canyon seemed endless, bottomless, it seemed like they were going to hurtle downward forever, and then suddenly the jeep gave one last lurch and everything went quiet and still.
A sharp whiff of gasoline sliced through the thick, dusty air. Pete was slumped over the steering wheel, blank eyes open. The door had caved inward, and twisted metal trapped him in the seat. Casey was sure he was dead (heart attack, he must have had a heart attack), but forced himself to check for a pulse anyway. None. He could hear his own ragged breathing, feel his hands shaking as he fumbled with his seat belt and twisted around to check on Dan. "Danny, you okay? Danny?"
Dan didn’t answer. He was sprawled sideways - shit, his seatbelt hadn’t held. His eyes were closed, he was utterly still, and he almost looked like he was napping the way he always did on long car trips, almost looked like - no, not that. He was hurt, obviously, and unconscious, but he would be all right, he would be fine, Casey just had to get him out of the car and find help. Maybe the jeep would be driveable.
Damn. Maybe not. There were flames shooting from the crushed hood of the car, and there wasn’t a jeep in the world that could climb back up to the road anyway.
Casey pushed open his door and looked around. Shit. The jeep had landed on a rock ledge jutting out from the canyon walls. There was a scant six inches of flat ground surrounding it, and then an incline to the bottom of the ravine. Not far at all, but it looked like an endless distance to Casey.
Somehow he was going to have to get Dan off the ledge and down to relative safety. He climbed out of the car and pulled the back door open carefully, sucking in a breath as he saw the awkward position of Dan’s arm, blood covering the sleeve, blood soaking through the front of his shirt, blood drenching his hair. Don’t think about it, no time to check it out now, just get him out of the car.
Casey barely had enough room to stand sideways, and he tried not to think about tumbling backwards as he pulled Dan toward him and positioned him into an awkward fireman’s carry. He stepped down onto the incline carefully, the rough ground forcing him to move slowly.
When they reached the bottom, he made himself walk a bit further, wanting to be a safe distance away from the precariously balanced jeep. Then he fell to his knees and eased Dan to the ground, laying him flat. He couldn’t tell if Dan was breathing, and he felt desperately for a pulse. Okay, yes, there it was, too weak but it was there and Casey wanted to cry with relief.
He bit his lip hard, tried to steady himself so he could survey the situation. He knew he had to be banged up from the crash, but sheer adrenaline meant he didn’t feel it yet, and he didn’t seem to have any major injuries. Pete, the one person familiar with the area, was dead. His cell phone didn't have service. No one would be looking for them until morning, and it would be dark before long.
He had to somehow stabilize Danny and find shelter for the night. Glancing up at the sky, Casey tried to remember what little he knew of first aid. God, what did that poster in the break room say?
Check. Call. Care.
Check. Fuck. Check what? Breathing, check breathing first. No, check if he’s conscious first, which he’s clearly not, so on to breathing anyway. He can’t see Danny’s chest moving, but when he puts his hand in front of his face he can feel soft exhalations. He remembers to tilt Danny’s head to the side, makes sure that there’s nothing in his mouth.
Now, check for a heartbeat, and thank God he easily finds that, because he’s sure he’d never remember CPR, never be able to save Danny that way.
Check for bleeding. He doesn’t have to check too hard, because oh my God there’s blood everywhere.
Call. After you check, call for help. Not much chance of that; Casey’s on his own here. He doesn’t let himself think about how that’s really too bad for Danny, because all of Casey’s medical expertise comes from watching ER and reading work safety posters.
Care. Care for the victim if you’re trained and qualified, which Casey sure the hell is not, but he’s all Danny’s got right now, he’s got to try. All that blood, he’s got to stop the bleeding. Casey takes off his jacket and button-up shirt; uses his pocketknife to cut the shirt into strips.
He uses some of the strips to wipe away the blood coming from Danny’s head, and finds the nasty gash that’s the cause of it. The skin is gaping apart, and Casey takes a deep breath and presses it together so he can bind it closed with a strip of material. This makes Danny twitch and moan softly, an awful sound but Casey’s glad for any reaction.
Next, he takes a look at Danny’s arm, and Casey’s much too squeamish for this; he feels sick at the thought of compressing the wound he finds on Danny’s shoulder, because he’s pretty sure that Danny’s arm is broken and it’s going to hurt like hell. Fuck.
Casey grits his teeth and presses the material against the wound. Danny reacts immediately; his eyes fly open and he’s moaning, the slurred words going straight to Casey’s heart.
don’t don’t god please don’t
"Danny, Danny, it’s okay. Look at me, Danny. You’re okay, I know it hurts but I need to stop the bleeding." Casey figures it has to be good that Danny’s awake and talking, and the pressure seems to be working, slowing down the bleeding.
"Casey? What - ?"
"The jeep flipped." Danny just looks puzzled at this, so Casey elaborates. "The location shoot, remember? We were heading to the cabin, and the jeep flipped."
"Oh. You okay?"
"I’m fine, just banged up a little. Let me finish you up here, and then we need to find some shelter for the night. Do you think you can walk a little bit?"
Danny doesn’t look too sure about that, but he nods anyway, and his eyes start to flutter closed again.
"Danny! Danny, keep your eyes open. You can’t go to sleep right now." Casey’s vaguely aware that he’s using what Danny calls his dad voice, and it works. Danny frowns at him, but his eyes are open again. "You need to stay awake, just for a while. Then we’ll find you somewhere to sleep, okay?"
"Okay. Casey, what about - where’s the guy, the driver? Pete?"
Damn, he had hoped that Danny would be too out of it to think of that. Casey sidesteps the question. "Hang on, Danny, let me finish this. Let’s get that arm fixed up."
Casey actually has no idea what he’s supposed to do for a broken arm, but surely he shouldn’t just leave it dangling. He settles for bracing it against Dan’s chest, and uses his belt and the clips on Dan’s jacket to lash it in place. There’s no danger of Dan falling asleep during this; he doesn’t make a sound but his eyes go wide and his breath comes in jerky gasps, and Casey decides that medical professionals can’t possibly be paid enough.
"There, that should do it," Casey says with a confidence he doesn’t feel. "Now, let me figure out where we’re going to settle for the night."
Casey stands and looks around slowly at what would be a beautiful area under different circumstances. He had hoped to make his way back to the jeep for some supplies, but in the dusky light he can see that the fire hasn’t died out; the smoke and flames are clearly getting worse. He does find several overhangs in the canyon, one of them more than big enough to provide shelter from wind and possible rain.
Danny manages the walk okay, with Casey’s help, but suddenly stops short just as they approach the overhang, his fingers tightening their grip on Casey’s arm. He’s spotted the burning jeep.
"Casey?"
"He’s dead, Danny. I think he had a heart attack."
"Oh. But is he, is he still -?"
"Yeah." Casey turns Dan gently, leads him into the overhang. "Try not to think about it."
He thinks it’s safer to keep Dan awake, so he helps him settle into a seated position, leaning against the canyon wall. He’s dismayed to see that both of the makeshift bandages are soaked through with blood, and he stifles a curse as he pulls additional strips of material out of his pocket to reinforce them.
Danny closes his eyes the minute he sees what Casey’s going to do. It doesn’t take as much pressure this time, but he’s chalk white and trembling when it’s done.
Casey doesn’t say anything, but takes Dan’s good hand in both of his and rubs it gently until the shaking stops.
"Better?"
"Yeah, I’m okay." Dan smiles faintly and cocks his head sideways a bit, his abashed look. "Sorry, Casey."
"Sorry what? Sorry that you’re hurt? Don’t - I don’t want to hear that." And Casey leans his head forward until it’s touching Danny’s, very gently, because suddenly he has to be closer to him. He stays that way for a long moment, listening to Danny breathe, before he pulls away.
He’s suddenly wracked with thirst, and remembers that they each have a bottle of water and protein bars in their jacket pocket. He vaguely recalls some sort of rule about giving injured people water, but he can’t remember what it is and compromises on having Danny slowly sip a small amount.
The temperature’s dropping, and he doesn’t want Dan lying against the cold rock, so Casey leans against the canyon wall and has Danny lean against him.
Night comes swiftly, black and endless. He had planned on waking Dan every couple of hours in case of concussion, but he doesn’t have to. Danny jerks awake again and again with stifled cries of pain, and Casey comforts him each time with whispered words and gentle touches. The worst patch comes just before dawn, when Casey is pulled from sleep by Danny moaning and twisting restlessly. He’d had a slight fever for hours, but one quick touch of his face told Casey that it had climbed much higher.
Mumbling incoherently, he doesn’t wake or respond no matter how urgently Casey begs him to. Casey rubs his good arm, drops kisses on his neck, curses the darkness that doesn’t let him check if the bleeding has started again, doesn’t let him see enough to help if it has.
Finally, mercifully, Danny quiets back into restful sleep. Casey pulls him closer, staring into the darkness until it’s broken by streaks of dawn.
It’s full daylight before Dan stirs again. His fever is down, but the bandages are drenched with blood again, and he looks paler and sicker than ever. Casey clamps down hard on the panic he feels at the sight, and tries to smile when Danny opens his eyes.
"Hey, how do you feel?"
Dan just stares at him for a minute, then answers slowly, his voice hoarse. "I’m, uh, okay. We - the jeep, right?"
His dazed expression spikes Casey with worry. "Right. They should be looking for us by now. We might want to try to get back up to the road."
After another patch job on Dan’s bandages, they decide to survey possible paths up the cliff. Casey’s entire body feels sore, his muscles aching with every step, but Dan seems a little better, more alert, once they are up and moving. The entire canyon seems impossibly steep at first, but Casey finally finds a gentler slope that he thinks Dan can manage with some help.
"I think that’s going to be our best way up. Once we’re on the road, we can decide if we want to stay put or try to walk toward the main highway. Let’s have some breakfast, and we can get started."
Danny nods, and looks glad for the chance to sit again. His eyes keep drifting to the jeep, with its blackened hood, and Casey makes sure he sits with his back to it.
Breakfast is half a protein bar and some of the precious water for Casey. Just water for Danny, and Casey’s not sure if he should urge him to eat or not, so he lets it be for the moment. Dan looks flushed and miserable again, and Casey knows without checking that his fever is rising. He’s wondering if they should rest for a while or just get started when Danny breaks the silence.
"Casey, it might make more sense for me to wait here while you go ahead."
"What? No way, Danny. No way am I leaving you here by yourself."
"We walked around for ten minutes, and I’m tired already. I’m not going to make it too far, Casey."
"So we won’t go too far. We’ll just make it up to the road, make it easier for them to find us."
"It’s a big forest, Casey, and there’s more than one route to the cabin. They might not find us for a while, maybe not even today." Danny’s voice is quiet and steady. "You could make it back to the highway in a few hours without me, Casey. Probably make it to town before dark if no one finds you. Send somebody back for me."
"That’s - that’s not a good idea, Danny." Casey doesn’t say just how bad of an idea he thinks it is, doesn’t say just how badly he thinks it would turn out. "We should stick together."
"It’s not sticking together, Casey, it’s me slowing you down. Besides, if you go ahead, you can get me help that much quicker."
Dan’s still calm but Casey’s struggling for control. "You’re hurt, Danny, and you’re sick. You need someone with you. And I’m fine, you need to not worry about me."
"You’re fine now. But we don’t have any food, and hardly any water, and things happen, and you should, you should just go. Go while you’re still fine, please Casey."
"And leave you here alone? You can’t - I’m not going to do that, why would I do that?"
Danny’s mouth twists, and he drops his head and whispers, "Charlie."
Dan always did have a knack for cutting to the heart of a matter. Charlie. The one other person in the world Casey would gladly die for. He wonders if anyone has told Lisa he’s missing, wonders if Lisa has told Charlie.
"Charlie’s going to be waiting for me when I get back. He’s going to be waiting for both of us."
"Casey, God, please. I’ll be fine, I’ll be okay, you need to just go, please."
"Shut up, Danny, just shut up. I’m not going."
"I don’t want something bad to happen to you because of me."
"Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m going to take care of you. We’re in this together, okay? And you wouldn’t leave me, you know you wouldn’t."
"It’s not the same, Casey." Dan sighs and rubs his hand across his eyes. "I don’t have anybody waiting on me. I don’t have anyone depending on me. You know it’s not the same."
"Lots of people are waiting on you. I can’t leave you, because then I would have to tell Natalie that I did, and I’m not that brave, man. And I can’t leave you, because I love you." Danny’s staring at him, surprised into silence, and Casey decides to close the sale. He leans over and kisses Danny, whispers in his ear, "I love you, and I’ll never leave you."
He pulls back slowly, watches Danny swallow and duck his head, and smirks in satisfaction. Kissed the argument right out of him. "And now that we’ve settled that, maybe we can get this show on the road."
Casey knows they need more water to get through the day, and he hasn’t seen so much as a trickle in the canyon. It seems gruesome, and it’s definitely dangerous, but he’s going to have to go back to the jeep and see if he can find any supplies.
He has Dan move to a small overhang, so he can lean back and rest, and leaves him with firm instructions to not move. Dan rolls his eyes at the bossiness but seems inclined to comply.
Casey approaches the jeep with trepidation, but it’s not as bad as he feared. The fire had burned itself out, with most of the damage to the front end. He crosses himself at the sight, because while he was trying not to look it didn’t seem right to just stroll past Pete’s dead body.
He’s edging his way along the side of the jeep when a distinct sound grabs his attention, makes him pause. Helicopter. That was the sound of helicopter blades. The sound got louder and Casey looked up to a beautiful sight, a helicopter flying directly overhead. It circles over him, low enough for him to see the pilot wave in acknowledgment before flying away again.
They wouldn’t have to trek up to the road, wouldn’t have to wait and hope for help. Casey goes weak with relief, and has to wait for his legs to stop trembling before he heads back down the incline.
Dan’s slumped to the side when he gets back, eyes closed. When Casey gently straightens him, his skin is blazing with fever. He’s unconscious, unresponsive, but Casey whispers the good news to him anyway, tells him to hang on just a little bit longer.
The whir of the helicopter blades has faded, and everything is silent, endless minutes that can’t be calculated, until suddenly rescue workers are everywhere, shouting and rappelling down the canyon and pulling Casey away from Dan.
The helicopter returns, thick yellow rope tumbles down, a ladder to the sky. Let down your long hair, Casey thinks, and he watches as the rope is attached to the gurney that holds Dan. Watches as it lifts Dan up, pirouetting madly, spiraling up to safety.
Then it’s a blur of voices and movement, and Casey doesn’t think he falls asleep, but suddenly he’s laying down. He hears Dana’s voice, and wonders just how she got to the canyon, but when he opens his eyes he sees white ceiling tiles instead of clear blue sky.
"Casey, oh my god, you’re awake. Are you okay? Are you in pain? You’re going to be fine, the doctor said you’re going to be fine."
Doctor. Hospital. Danny.
"Danny, where’s Danny?"
"He’s right here, Casey, right here at the same hospital. He got here before you did."
"Is he okay? I want to see him. I have to see him, Dana."
Dana blinks hard at that, but her voice stays steady. She tells Casey that Dan is in surgery, and that they don’t know much yet, and other things that Casey doesn’t want to hear.
There isn’t much to be done for Casey’s collection of bruises and contusions, and the doctors cave in to his relentless insistence that he be allowed to go up to the surgery floor.
It’s still an agony of waiting, but he’s that much closer to Danny.
He doesn’t allow himself to relax even when the doctor comes out and says the surgery went well, not until he’s finally, finally allowed to go into Danny’s room and see him, touch him. He won’t leave, can’t leave, has to be there when Danny wakes up.
Which doesn’t happen until well into the next day, and it’s really another full day before Dan is anything approaching coherent. The constant stream of visitors doesn’t stop Casey from bitterly noticing the absence of Dan’s parents, and he refuses to talk to them when they call, passing the phone to Dana or Isaac each time.
It also doesn’t stop Casey from holding Dan’s hand pretty constantly, but it does keep them from any meaningful conversation. It isn’t until the third day that they even talk about what happened in the canyon. Casey has Danny’s hand clutched in his again, and he doesn’t even try to hide the trembling.
"God, Danny, I was so scared. You were hurt so bad, and I didn’t know what to do for you, how to help you."
"I’d say you did pretty good. You saved my life, Casey."
"I kind of did, huh? Do I get to hold that over you for the rest of your life?"
"No, no, I’m pretty sure there’s a statute of limitations on that." They both laugh, even though it’s not that funny, but then Dan gets quiet, and Casey can tell he’s struggling with what to say next.
"Casey, I just wanted to say - about what you said to me, um, I know everything was really intense, and maybe you didn’t, I mean it’s okay if . . ."
"God, Danny, am I going to have to tell you to shut up every single day in this relationship?" Casey leans forward and whispers, "Shut up, Danny. I love you, and I’m never going to leave you."