Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Danny Atlas’ timer didn’t stop when he met Henley Reeves and that was a god damn shame. He still had over a year left and that made things even worse. As time went on, he was sure that his timer was just fucking up, because what he and Henley had was real and she looked past the gawky exterior that not many seemed to do (He still had curly hair, which didn't really help his chances of getting a date) and really? Why the fuck couldn’t it stop when he met Henley? She was nice, she was pretty and she was into magic? What was wrong with that?

Oh, that’s right. She wasn’t his soul mate.

They didn’t date, at Henley’s insistence. She said it would make things more difficult when they did meet their soul mates (2 years, 30 days, 6 hours, 46 minutes and 35 … 34 … 33 seconds.) and, at closer inspection, Henley’s had almost the exact same numbers on it: 2 years, 30 days, 6 hours, 44 minutes and 24 … 23… 22 seconds. That’s when they would meet their soul mates. And who knows if they would even still be talking to each other in 2 years, 30 days, 6 hours, 46 minutes and 26 … 25 seconds? They most likely wouldn’t. Danny never had a friend that long. Either he pissed them off or they pissed him off and the longest friendship he had was two months before the other guy told him to fuck off and ditched. Anyone who asked Danny would find out that it was totally the other guy’s fault. (It wasn’t.)

But still, they fooled around twice. One was just making out before a show, stopping when Danny realized it was nearly time to go on and they never really got around to picking up where they left off. The second time was at their shabby hotel, they were making out, her hand got inside Danny’s pants and … point is, there were teenagers who could last longer than he could.

But things were good, for the most part. They never fooled around again; trying to keep things as professional as they could until the day that Danny made that stupid comment about Henley not being able to fit through the trapdoor. Things could’ve been salvaged, though, had Danny not brought up that Henley’s understudy could fit through way better than she could.

That was the night that Henley packed her bags and Danny got stuck with an assistant who barely knew what the fuck she was doing, despite the fact that she could fit through trap doors. It wasn’t long after that Danny decided to go solo and damn, was it a whole lot better. He achieved things he thought he would never be able to do and it finally happened: February 21, he got the card telling him to come to New York, to 45 East Evans Street.

That card could change his whole future.

Of course he went. He made flight plans as soon as possible and as he the cab he was in pulled up to the building, he saw the ever familiar red hair: Henley.

Of course. That must’ve been it. Henley was his soul mate. They just needed time to mature a little and when the time was right, they would meet again.

All the professionals say that’s absolute bullshit but Danny liked his theory better, so he went with it.

When they came across the once famous mentalist, Merritt, Danny glanced down nervously at his counter, begging for it to not be this guy, this asshole he couldn’t stand. His timer was still going. One minute and 47 seconds. Henley’s, on the other hand, ran out.

Danny never really pitied Henley. And now was as good a time as any to start.

But hey, as long as it wasn’t him getting stuck with Merritt for the rest of his life, which couldn’t be. They weren’t soul mates. They’d probably have a grudge match of wits before killing each other.

His countdown was in single digits now, his heart pounding so loudly that Merritt didn’t even need to be a mentalist to know that he was nervous. Three … two … one.

“No way. J. Daniel Atlas?” Danny felt his heart skip a beat. His soul mate was standing right in front of him. “Dude, I have seen everything that you have ever done. You’re like, I-I idolize you. Seriously.”

Great. Henley gets another magician and he gets a fanboy. He’s not even all that into guys.

The universe has a sick sense of humor.

This couldn’t be right, it just couldn’t. His soul mate was not some twenty year old fanboy who just probably came from finding out his soul mate was his idol.

“From a true fan, it’s so nice to meet you.” He shook the kid’s hand and there were no sparks, no pull on his stomach like his parents said there would be.

See? Wrong. His timer was so fucking wrong it was almost funny.

Almost.

“I’m Jack, by the way.”

Chapter Text

Danny Atlas did not have temper tantrums. He did not throw hissy fits. However, he did give people who pissed him off the silent treatment. That he wasn’t above. That’s why it had been nearly two weeks since he last spoke to Jack, his alleged soul mate. He was also convinced that his timer was dead wrong and that he was very much still able to find his real soul mate. Not this twenty year old who was a bit too reckless and cocky, a dangerous combination.

Why couldn’t he get stuck with someone who at least had more experience when it came to magic? It wasn’t fair. Henley got a seasoned mentalist, one who had gone on fucking tours around the US, and he got another sleight of hand that seemed to be more into thievery and cons than magic. And, upon closer inspection, it seemed that all Jack knew how to do was distract and steal. And that wasn’t his style. He preferred to amaze people until they willingly handed over their money. Nothing that could get him arrested for petty theft.

It was a rainy April afternoon when Jack and Henley got back to the hotel after making a coffee run to the Starbucks a couple of blocks away. It was a nice hotel, one they had gotten with the money their mysterious benefactor gave them to get themselves a reputation built up that would be hard to resist. Henley handed a coffee to Merritt and Jack sipped at his as he dropped down on the couch next to Merritt, who was starting to turn into an older brother like figure for him. Henley set the last coffee on the table between them, kicked off her heels, which looked like torture traps, and curled up in a chair across from them, gloves keeping her hands from getting burned.

“Where’s my coffee?” Danny asked from the doorway to the room he had claimed for himself. It was a two room hotel. Danny got one room, Henley and Merritt got the other. Jack claimed that he didn’t care much and slept on the couch.

He’d rather sleep on a couch than share a bed with Danny.

“I’d check up your ass,” Jack muttered, mostly to himself and Merritt but Danny had good hearing. It was something that helped when he was staying in a hotel with a thief.

Danny put his cards back in their boxes and tucked it into his back pocket, eyebrows raised. “What is that supposed to mean?” he snapped.

“You know exactly what it means.”

Henley sent a glare Jack’s way, silently telling him to shut up. “It’s on the table, Danny.”

As Danny went to get his coffee, Merritt leaned towards Jack and said, “Whatever’s up there is in there sideways.” They both cracked up, Jack doubled over until one stern look from Henley shut them up.

Danny rolled his eyes, going over and grabbing his coffee from the table, “If you’ll excuse me, I have better people to be around than ones who lower the amount of brain cells I have.”

Before Danny could move from the area, Jack retorted, “What people? The only people who will somewhat put up with you are sitting right here.”

“And this is what you call putting up with?”

Jack stood, trying to seem a bit intimidating, but it didn’t work considering that he and Danny were the exact same height. “Don’t give us a reason to,” he said, brushing past Danny with his cup in hand.

Danny followed after him, talking with his eyebrows, like he usually did, when he said, in his sarcastic way, “Oh, because I’m giving you a reason to be a total dick to me?”

“Yes, actually you are!”

Danny knew he was. He was well aware of the fact that he had been completely cold on his side where Jack had tried to reach out to him in the beginning. But he didn’t like being wrong and he didn’t want this stupid kid telling him that he was wrong. “I haven’t done one wrong thing towards you.”

Jack groaned, balling up his free hand for a second before he let it relax. “You haven’t done one goddamn thing in general towards me! That’s the fucking problem!”

“How is that a problem!? Last I checked, you couldn’t fucking stand me!” Danny shouted back, squeezing his coffee cup in hand. Jack drew another fist, drawing it back when Danny said, “Hit me. Do it. It won’t change anything.” Glancing over Danny’s back, he saw Henley biting her lower lip nervously and Merritt urging him to, nodding.

After a second of deliberation, Jack unclenched his fist and headed for the door. “I’m going out. Nobody wait up.” He pulled his hood up over his head and left, slamming the door shut behind him. Nobody tried to stop him.

Danny glared at his retreating back for a second before he went back to his room, closing that door gently, because he wasn’t fucking stupid, and going back to his card tricks.

Merritt seemed bored as he sipped at his coffee, pulling his hat down in the front as he leaned up and looked over at Henley. “I can feel the sexual tension. I vote that we just lock them in a room together and see how long it takes for them to fuck.”

“Or for one of them to kill each other.”

He shrugged. “Minor risk.”

Henley looked between the door to Danny’s room and the door to the hotel suite. “I just hope they get their shit together before we have to fly to Paris,” she said, shaking her head, “Eight hours in an enclosed space would not work out for the two of them.”

“And we’re back to locking them in a room together.”

Danny interjected before Henley could respond, rolling his eyes. Neither of them had realized he had left his room. “What you’re saying is that you want to run the risk of Jack and I killing each other in the off chance it might work. You can’t do the show without us.”

Merritt stood, and this time, it was a little intimidating, “We can’t do the show with you because you’re either going to fight on stage or start fucking.”

Henley stood as well, resting a hand on Danny’s arm, “Our benefactor, whoever they are, didn’t plan on doing this show with magicians who don’t work well together. You and Jack need to get your shit together, or we’re fucked.” She left then, heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

Henley always got the last word.

Chapter Text

Some people were good at one specific thing. Merritt was good at reading people. Henley had a lot of practice escaping from handcuffs, something Merritt never failed to make a perverted comment about. Sometimes he didn't shut up about it until Henley narrowed her eyes and glared, daring him to make another comment. Jack and Danny found out about why he shut up so quickly when he was walking bowlegged for days and they both could agree on one thing: That it was fucking hilarious that Henley pegged him. Danny was good at his magic tricks.

Jack was good at pickpocketing. But he wasn't just good. He was like an artist when it came to pickpocketing. If there was a school for it, Jack would be the one teaching every lesson. Sometimes, they would pick a target for him, (they was Henley and Merritt. Danny was too busy ignoring his presence ninety percent of the time), and see if he could get the wallet off of whomever and if not, well, he was a fast runner with a non-distinctive face. He could make it work.

So that's how they ended up sitting at a little corner shop cafe, hiding under the awning of the patio and drinking coffee to keep themselves warm. Jack and Danny sat on opposite sides, with Danny reading a book and Jack and Merritt making up a game. Henley was at the hotel. She wanted some time to relax, which just meant that she didn't feel like putting up with Jack and Danny dancing around the fact that they were soul mates.

Jack pointed out a woman with an oversized bag, talking on her phone. "See her? Twenty points."

Merritt simply scoffed. "Her? She's distracted. Ten points. It wouldn't be that hard to get her wallet out of her bag."

"Yeah, but you ever stuck your hand in a chick's purse? It's like the fuckin' Grand Canyon in there. Twenty points."

"Alright, fine, what about him?" Merritt pointed out a guy, looking confused and holding up a map as he tried to get his bearings. "Ten points."

Jack simply shook his head. "I already got him last week. I don't hit the same person twice."

Without looking up from his book, Danny interjected, "That's a real nice game you've got going on there; deciding who would be more of a risk to pickpocket from."

"Would you rather it be you?" Merritt asked, eyebrows raised as he took another sip of his coffee.

"No, I wouldn't, actually, so if you could just leave me out of it, it'd be appreciated, I'm not one for those stupid little games," Danny said, speaking quickly, like Merritt wouldn't understand him if he spoke that fast.

As Merritt was about to reply, Jack cut him off, "Leave him, I already pickpocketed him." He took immense joy in the look that was a mix of horror and confusion as it washed over Danny's face.

"When did you --?!"

Jack held up a hand to shush him, pointing out a guy wearing a leather jacket four sizes too big and jeans that would ruin any chance he had of having a child. "Fifty points. Guy's keep their wallet in their pants. Guarantee you I can get it."

"Him? No way?" Merritt said, shaking his head as he saw who Jack was talking about.

"And if I do?"

Merritt thought for a moment. "I'll buy you a drink tonight. Whatever you want." Danny snorted. Obviously he didn't think that Jack was going to get that wallet.

Jack thought for a moment before he nodded. "Deal." Jack grabbed the pair of fake glasses he got from Walmart and stepped out from under the awning and into the rain.

Merritt groaned, tipping his hat down the slightest bit. "I can't watch this." He watched anyway.

Jack made sure to get rain onto the lenses of the glasses and going over to the guy, accidently bumping into him. "Shit, man, I'm sorry, my glasses are getting fucking ruined by the rain." He made a show of trying to look past the rain covered lense and smirked, biting his lower lip. "And on second thought ... I'm not all that sorry." He waited for the other guy to smirk in response before he grabbed his ass, getting his wallet out as he did so and quickly tucking it up his sleeve. "See you." He headed back over to the table where Merritt and Danny were.

As he was flirting and pickpocketing the guy, Danny had looked up from his book, only to feel something in the pit of his stomach that was building up in his chest, making it feel tight. It wasn't a good feeling and he would do anything to get rid of it as soon as possible. But the more he watched Jack with the guy he was targeting, the worse the feeling got. When Jack grabbed his ass, he stood, taking in a breath so sharp he surprised himself.

"You okay?" Merritt asked. He probably didn't care all that much. He just wanted more material to tease Danny with. It was a favorite pastime of his, honestly.

"I'm fine," Danny said after a moment, running a hand through the straightened hair that was starting to turn curly at the bottom. He sat back down as Jack started heading back towards them, a victorious smirk on his face.

Merritt looked over at Danny skeptically, having forgotten all about his bet with Jack. "You sure? Cause if I didn't know better, I'd say that you were jealous?"

"I'm not fucking jealous, okay? Jesus Christ, leave it." He went back to his book and shook his head. Fucking Merritt thinking he was fucking jealous. What was there to be jealous of? He and Jack weren't a thing. They were soul mates, so what? He didn't like Jack and Jack didn't like him and that was that. He could flirt with whomever he wanted to, just like Danny could do the same.

"Jealous," Merritt hummed, rolling his eyes.

"Who's jealous?" Jack asked as he got within earshot, having heard the word. He was curious now.

"Your boyfriend is."

Danny stood again. "I'm not his fucking boyfriend and I'm not fucking jealous!" He packed up his book and grabbed his umbrella, leaving and starting back for the hotel.

"I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave," Jack called after him.

"I want my fucking wallet back before the night is over!" Danny shouted back, flipping him off as he walked. Jack simply scoffed and grabbed the guy's wallet from his sleeve, taking out the cash and tossing the rest into a trashcan near them. He also took a fifty out of Danny's wallet. Just because he could.

"By the way, you're buying me a long island tonight," Jack said simply, taking another sip of coffee. He was going to need it.

Chapter Text

Before Danny could even process what he was doing, he pushed open the door to their hotel and called out, "Henley!" He was jealous and upset because Jack was flirting and he wanted to get this horrible feeling out of his stomach. So when he saw Henley walking towards him, he did something he didn't expect to do: He kissed her.

And for a second, it made the knot in his stomach ease, because Henley was a good kisser. He'd known that since the second they first kissed but after he registered what he was doing, he started to feel worse. And once she pushed him away, an angry and disbelieving look on her face, he had nothing else to focus on and he felt worse than he had before he kissed her.

Another thing to focus on was the fact that, before he could blink, Merritt had him pinned up against the wall, hand curled into a fist and arm drawn back to punch him. After turning over his shoulder to look at Henley, shaking her head disapprovingly, despite how angry she was, he let himself relax.

Then Danny, stupid fucking Danny, muttered, "Yeah. That's what I thought." There was hardly a three second gap between Merritt hearing those words and Danny getting punched directly in the nose. He was pretty sure he heard a snap. Merritt was shaking out his hand, Danny was dripping blood onto his shirt and Jack was standing in the doorway looking hurt and angry and fuck, Danny wished Merritt would hit him again and knock him out. He hadn't even realized that Jack had been there, didn't know that they had followed him back.

"Merritt!" Henley said sharply, going to get a washcloth for Danny's nose. "Go sit down," she said, shaking her head. She returned with a clean washcloth, holding it to Danny's nose, waiting for him to take it before she turned to Jack. Obviously she wasn't in the mood to deal with Merritt now. "Let's go, Jack. We're taking Danny to the hospital."

"No," Jack said, crossing his arms.

Henley scoffed. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean fucking no, Henley," Jack snapped, his accent getting thicker and his words becoming harder to understand to anyone who didn't know him very well. "I'm not going to fucking help that douchebag after what he just did and honestly, you shouldn't either."

Henley seemed to understand him perfectly. Danny didn't.

And that said a lot.

"Jack, don't do this now, his nose is broken," Henley pleaded, glancing between them. They hadn't seemed to work anything out. In fact, things seemed worse. God she really needed to get them drunk and lock them in a room together.

"Then you better get fucking going," Jack muttered, tossing Danny's wallet at his feet before he turned and stormed out, making sure to slam the door so harshly the walls shook and everyone was sure that the people all around them heard it. Danny sighed as he watched him go. He hated conflict. He could talk his way out of stupid arguments but he hated when things got physical and he hated when he didn't know what to do to resolve anything.

"It's fine, Henley," Danny said, grabbing his wallet and continuing to mop up blood from his face. "I'll go alone." Besides, he knew where to find Jack and he doubted Jack would stay there if he thought anyone was going after him. And the only person that would go after him was Henley. So he promised he would get his nose fixed and went down to the hospital, getting in and out after an hour or so with a bandage on his nose. He headed to the bar fifteen blocks away from the hotel, because he knew Jack wouldn't go to one that was closer, and pushed the door open, going inside. He found Jack at the bar, getting a refill on his beer. Danny sighed, moving to sit next to him.

"Corona extra," he said, showing his ID and getting a bottle of beer in return. If Jack noticed him, he didn't give any sign. So Danny sipped at his beer, waiting for Jack to start bitching at him like he knew he would.

And he was right. Another glass of beer had Jack starting. "What the fuck were you thinking?" he asked, not turning to look at Danny. "Kissing someone else's soul mate."

"The same thing you were thinking when you flirted with that guy today!" Danny shot back.

He wasn't expecting Jack to laugh. It was a mirthless laugh, one that almost sounded cold and angry and just so unlike Jack. "That's what this is about?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, it is," Danny said.

Jack leaned closer, "You and I both know that I wasn't flirting with him to make you jealous."

Danny slammed his beer down on the counter, not even noticing as some flew out and landed on the counter. "No, I don't."

"If I was flirting with him to make you jealous, you would know it," Jack promised before he stood, draining back the rest of his beer, "Like so." He went onto the dance floor, finding a guy he didn't find even the slightest bit attractive before he started to dance with him. After a few songs, during all of which he knew Danny was watching, he kissed the guy, pickpocketing him as he did so, and pulling back to dance again.

The bartender leaned on the counter in front of Danny. "That your soul mate?" he asked, gesturing to Jack, who had moved on to the next guy. Danny, though he didn't want to believe it, nodded. "Then you two seriously need to work your shit out."

Danny stood up at that, tossing down the money for his drinks. "The day I take advice from some low-life, shitty bartender who probably sells his ass on the weekends for extra cash is the day I cut my own spine in half," he snapped, leaving the bar without a look back.

He didn't see Jack watching him with sad eyes as he left.

Chapter Text

It was after four when Jack stumbled back into their current place, wreaking like booze and making all the drunkards who were still out question their life choices, because really, is this what they smelled like to other people. As he went into the building, he was sure the concierge gave him a look that was silently a question of did he really stay there. But he paid them no mind, just got in the elevator and pressed the button for the fourth floor, because he was pretty sure that was where they were staying at the moment. And thank god for that elevator, because if he had to walk up those stairs, he would basically be fucked.

The elevator stopped at the second floor, letting someone else in who had probably just gone to the coffee bar. (Yeah, it had a 24 hour coffee bar. Not good coffee but when it was four o’clock in the morning and you had shit to do; you would take what you can get.) Jack didn’t pay that any mind, just watched himself in the mirrored wall, making stupid faces.

Danny, however, noticed right off that he was in an elevator with the last person he wanted to see right now. He was pretty sure that he was getting drunk off the scent of booze wafting off Jack and he sighed. “Jesus Christ, Wilder. You couldn’t do that drinking thing half assed, could you?” he asked. Whatever. He was just happy they didn’t have to go on tomorrow. That was the last thing that would be good for their career. But on the other upside, he could fuck with Jack all day long, knowing he would be hungover.

If he wasn’t still drunk, that was.

Jack turned to look at Danny, giving him what seemed to be an attempt at a death glare but really turned out to be more like a stink eye a middle school student gave to the teacher they disliked the most.

Hey, that was fine. Danny didn’t want to talk to Jack any more than Jack wanted to talk to him. So things were going smoothly until the elevator jerked and shuddered to a stop, right between the second and third floor. Jack’s face contorted in confusion for just a moment before he pointed at the elevator and whined, “Fix it!”

“How would I do that?” Danny asked, not lacking on the dryness to his voice that he always had when he had to talk to the youngest of the Horsemen.

“I don’t know, just do it!”

Holy shit, this kid was wasted.

“Ah, yes, because in my free time as a slightly struggling magician, I got my degree in mechanics!” Danny said, rolling his eyes and running his hand through his curls. Jack pouted, leaning over and taking Danny’s coffee cup with the hope that there was booze in there.

After taking a sip, he learned that there wasn’t. He pulled a face, made a noise and shook his head, handing the cup back to Danny. “Try to fix. I’m just … I’m just gonna take a nap.”

Well, Danny thought, At least he’ll be quiet.

If Danny had spent any semblance of time with Jack in the history of ever, he would’ve known that Jack snored like a chainsaw. It was almost more annoying than when he was awake.

But after the first hour of calling down to the lobby for help, and getting no response (He would definitely be complaining about that) the silence got to him and he was desperate. “Jack. Jack, wake up,” he said, kicking Jack lightly, not enough to leave a mark, but enough for him to feel it.

And apparently, Jack was a very light sleeper and he sighed, taking Danny’s cup and drinking the dregs of what remained of his coffee. He groaned. “Are we still stuck in an elevator?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Am I still plastered?”

“Dude, you’re two steps past plastered. You’re shitfaced,” he said, shaking his head almost fondly, which was really weird because he never wanted this kid around but now he felt like he was almost fond of him.

No. Bad emotions. He needed to avoid the fondness feeling. He needed to avoid any good feelings when it came to Jack. He was an annoyance, a burden. Simple as that.

And yet, he was kind of cute when he was sleepy.

After catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, Danny was promptly able to talk himself out of feeling that sort of thing for Jack and he shook his head again, this time to make sure his brain was plugged in properly. “I’ve been calling down for like, an hour, and no response. It’s getting annoying.”

Jack paused for a moment. “Did you try pressing the open door button?” he asked before he did just that.

“Jack!”

But the doors were already sliding open, thank god, and they were able to get to the third floor, with Danny going first. He half debating leaving Jack in the elevator but then he thought about how much he liked having his balls attached to his body, which they would not be if Henley found out, so he helped him out, also having to support his deadweight up a flight of stairs to get back to their room. Jack was still on the couch and he instantly started heading for the couch once they were back inside the room. Danny sat down on it for a moment to help ease Jack onto it so he did fall off, which he didn’t doubt, kid was scrawny as fuck and probably weighed an ounce.

With a sigh, Danny realized just how comfortable the couch was, which was not at all and he stood again, pulling Jack up. “C’mon.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Jack said as Danny dragged him towards his room and helping him down onto his bed.

“You’re staying in here for the night,” he said, shaking his head as he laid down, making room for Jack in bed.

Whatever. Jack wasn’t protesting. Hell, he was just happy he didn’t have to sleep on the couch.

The next morning, when Henley woke up and went out into the living room, she didn’t see Jack anywhere in the room, which instantly caused a spike of panic, because Henley had been dubbed the parent of the group, despite Merritt being the oldest.

So she went to sound the alarm, going for Danny’s room first, just because she knew he got in late. So when she saw Danny and Jack lying with their backs to each other and their hands intertwined, she nearly punched a wall.

Fucking finally.

Chapter Text

When Danny woke up the next morning, Jack was already gone, leaving no sign that he had been there other than the side of the bed Danny didn’t sleep on being rumpled and messy. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with his hands before he forced himself into a sitting position, curls sticking up at awkward angles. After deciding that he didn’t want to fight with a hair straightener today, he went out to the living room, expecting to see Henley by the stove, which would explain for the scent of pancakes in the air but she wasn’t. It was Jack, his back to Danny and a dishrag over his shoulder.

“Morning,” Danny said, a little tentatively, but who could blame him, given the way things went down last night.

Jack turned around at, not appearing to be nearly as hungover as he should be, especially since the smell of cheap booze had been wafting off of him the night before. “Hey,” he said, sliding a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of Danny. “They’re Sorry I was a drunken idiot pancakes.”

“No different than any other night,” Danny muttered before he could stop himself, shooting Jack an apologetic smile but Jack just shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t know you could cook.” It was less of conversation starter and more of a thought said aloud but Jack rolled his eyes, getting himself a glass of orange juice from the fridge.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said, taking a piece of bacon for himself and sitting down at the table across from Danny.

Danny gave him a look. “Tragic backstory?” he hummed, to which Jack shrugged, quieter than Danny had ever seen him before. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Jack rolled his eyes but nodded, leaning back in his chair and rocking up onto the back two legs. “You first.”

“No, how do I know you won’t choose flight and refuse to tell me after?” he shot back, stabbing half a pancake and shoving it in his mouth in a very un-Danny like manner.

“You first or not at all,” he said, “Trust me, going after me, you’ll seem like a jackass for thinking your backstory is tragic.”

Danny sighed, taking a sip of water once he had gotten up to grab a bottle from the fridge. “Okay, okay … same time?”

Jack settled at that, having looked to be dangerously on the verge of hitting Danny. “Fine. On 1.”

“Three,” Danny said.

“Two,” Jack said, sounding like he would regret this.

“One,” they said together.

Danny said, “My parents were negligent fucks,” at the same time Jack said,

“I was abused by my dad.”

“The fuck?!” Danny practically shouted, hoping that Henley and Merritt weren’t asleep still.

Jack just took a sip of orange juice, raising his eyebrows and looking up at Danny in an I told you so kind of way. “Yeah. Oh and my name, Jack? Not my real name. But if you would like to tell your story, I am entirely interested in hearing it,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

Danny waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing to it, parents used to work a lot, travelled for business, I always was left on my own, nothing too scarring. Now spill.” His finger absently traced over the timer on his arm, looking over at Jack. “C’mon. I won’t talk into the end of the story. Scout’s honor.”

Jack, or whatever his name was, smirked. “You were a boy scout?” he asked, beginning to laugh.

“Get on with the story,” he said, swatting Jack.

“I’m gonna warn you now,” he mumbled, “This won’t be pretty.” He sighed, taking another bite of bacon before he lost his appetite entirely, like he knew he would, “So, I’m going to preface this by saying that my dad was a cop.”

“Was?” Danny asked, apparently having forgotten his promise to not interrupt. Jack gave him a look. “Alright, alright, shutting up.”

“Yeah. Was. He abused me from the time I was four to the time I was a junior in high school. Know that really long scar you saw on my back that one time?” he asked, to which Danny nodded. “I got that when I was sixteen, from a bourbon bottle.” He rolled up his sleeve, revealing more jagged scars along with round ones, starting right above his own timer. “I have siblings. When I was in eighth grade they were still below the age of nine. So I took the beatings,” he said, “Whatever he threw at me, I took it, as long as he didn’t touch them.” He ran a hand through his hair, shoving his sleeve back down with a shaky hand. “My sophomore year, my mom finally decided she couldn’t stand it anymore and filed a report with the police station.” He gave a quiet laugh, dread filling his chest like molten lead. “Bet you could guess how that went down. He tried to beat my mom but I took it from her too. She was pregnant at the time. And I wasn’t going to let him hurt her. So, my junior year, I put my pickpocketing skills to good use and I stole a gun. I shot him and I don’t regret it but I had to leave. And that’s why I dropped out; I went on the run, changed my name and never looked back. I haven’t spoken to my mom since I was seventeen. She knows I’m alive but … that’s about it.”

Danny was quiet for a few more moments, taking in all of the information with a quiet sound. “Shit, Jack … wait … if Jack’s not your first name, is Wilder your last name?” Jack shook his head. “So what is?”

“Ethan … Ethan King. Jack Wilder was some baby who died of SIDS and was around the same age as me. .. It was a perfect fit.”

Danny was quiet for a moment. “Thank you for telling me. I knew that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Jack gave a dry laugh, trying to regain his sense of humor. “Dude … we’re about to rob people and banks for a lot of money. Telling you was a lot lot easier than what we’re going to have to pull off.”

Chapter Text

The first act was now. They were on the stage and the crowd was loving them. They were eating up Jack and Danny sassing each other and the fact that Henley and Danny seemed to be a little closer than friends. No one had to know that Jack and Danny were the soulmates and that it was Henley and Merritt, especially with the way he didn’t interact with anyone as much as he interacted with Jack. They had good chemistry, the four of them together. Everyone could find someone, something relatable in each of them.

And then they dropped the Euros, all 3.2 millions worth dropped onto the audience and “We are the Four Horsemen! Goodnight!”

“Goodnight!” Merritt shouted before they did their bows and headed off stage, giddy at having pulled off the first act and having it done without a hitch. They were one step closer to The Eye!

Merritt was giving Henley a piggyback ride back to their hotel, her hands toying with her gloves excitedly, adrenaline rushing through their bodies. It all seemed like it was moving too fast, that there were places that would be hearing about them all over the world, those magicians who robbed a bank. It made Jack’s heart hammer in his chest and he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. If only he had known this would be his future, he might have gotten through childhood with his chin up.

He and Danny were lingering, as Henley tightened her grip around Merritt’s neck as he ran back to Aria, their hotel for the time being. At least until the FBI came to pick them up for international bank robbery. Jack wasn’t looking over at Danny, too high off the adrenaline coursing through his system as he took in all his surroundings. But when he caught heard some people talking loudly, excitedly, about their show, he was about to go over and introduce himself, make their night. Because he could. Already on the verge of going over to them, he felt Danny’s hand slip into his, the timer on Jack’s right arm glowing a faint green amongst the lights of Las Vegas. After a moment, Danny squeezed his hand and Jack squeezed back.

Judging by the way Henley was acting, neither Danny or Jack wanted to go back to the hotel tonight. Instead, Danny gently tugged on Jack’s hand, leading him in another direction. “Figured it’s probably better if we give them their privacy,” he said, looking over at Jack. “We could walk around some. Maybe … go gambling? We’re in Las Vegas, after all.”

“Gambling?” Jack echoed. “Count me in.”

They won a little, mostly because Danny and Jack were playing on the same machines and only moved to switch off. Jack kicked ass at poker, had an excellent pokerface. Not to mention that Danny was pretty certain he was counting cards, like was illegal. They won big from poker and Danny was good at blackjack. But they spent it all on good food, like seriously good food, from a five star restaurant whose name neither of them could pronounce. And it was fucking worth it.

They took a cab home, figuring why not, since they could pay this time and not having to worry about dealing with Henley and Merritt bitching not inviting them. They were lucky. They clicked easily with each other, showed the fact that they were soulmates in every aspect of their lives. Danny and Jack weren’t as lucky. They had to work their way up to it. So science and fate told them they were meant to be together. That didn’t mean it was going to be automatic. They had to work at it.

And by this point, they were more than willing to put in the effort.

Chapter Text

It was happening, they all knew it. It was just a matter of time before the FBI showed up at their door but they were going to enjoy all the time they had left before that happened. Danny practiced with his cards, looking out of the window lost in thought and not speaking to the others. He was just repeating the same motions, over and over again, until there was no longer any thought put into it. Merritt was lying on the couch reading The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño, a first edition copy in the book’s original Spanish.

Henley smirked, sitting down on the arm of the couch and looking over at Merritt. “I didn’t know you spoke Spanish, Merritt,” she hummed, more looking to strike up a conversation and hope to drown out the nerves that were buzzing around in her stomach. She never got nervous like this, not even before a big show. She knew that the blueprints said they would be let go, that the police would have nothing to stick to them and couldn’t hold them if they weren’t going to be charged, but it still made her stomach twist into knots. She could tell that Danny was nervous too, the way he kept methodically doing the same thing over and over again, trying not to focus on their impending arrest.

“Si, si,” Merritt responded without looking up from his book. “Aprendí en un viaje cuando era más joven.” He turned a page and Henley’s alarm went off, their ten minute warning that the FBI would be there to arrest them soon. “Go,” he said, looking up long enough to smile at her.

Henley stood, smoothing down her skirt and crossing over to Danny to rest a hand on his shoulder from behind. He was still looking out of the window of their top floor hotel room, he would really miss the view. “It’s almost time. Be ready.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Danny wanted to ask where Jack was, wanted to try and give him time to run but that wasn’t part of the plan. And they were not to deviate from what the blueprints told them to do. It wasn’t happening. So he nodded, licked his lips and stayed quiet.

Henley went upstairs, knocking on the door to the room Jack had claimed as his own, they had actually been able to afford a three bedroom hotel suite thanks to their mysterious benefactor. The one they weren’t going to be screwing over in a matter of weeks. “Hey … you awake?”

“Yeah,” Jack responded softly and Henley opened the door, stepping inside. Jack was sitting on one of the chairs, staring out of the window as well with his feet propped up against the glass. “Almost time?”

“Yeah.” Henley pulled up a chair next to Jack’s, crossing one leg over the other. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Jack shrugged, a sigh escaping from his chest. “They’re going to pull our prints when we get to headquarters,” he replied, “And they’re going to see that I have arrest warrants out.” He hadn’t told anyone about this besides Danny and that was only because they had both decided that they needed to work out this soulmates thing, especially given that neither of them could really stand each other. He knew the crowd, when he had gotten close to them the night before, had seen that the timer that normally shone with green light at 0:00:00:00, knew he had met his soulmate already. He knew that they knew and he didn’t want to give people any more reason to go prying into his personal life. It was why he was content to take a backseat role in the show.

“Arrest warrants, Jack, why do you have arrest warrants?” It was that nurturing tone of voice, that told Jack that Henley was preparing to coddle the hell out of him and possibly wrap him in a blanket to protect him so he just turned to look at her with his eyebrows raised, not giving her an answer. Henley pursed her lips and nodding. “All right. I wanna know someday.” She stood up, squeezed his shoulder lightly and said, “Six minutes.”

Jack just nodded and moved to get dressed, pulling on jeans with the bottoms rolled up and a dark graw gray long sleeved shirt along with a pair of boots, he didn’t really have a whole wide variety of clothing to choose from.  

“Go time!” Henley called five minutes later from the second floor and, while no one moved from where they were, Danny seemed suddenly more rigid and she could tell that Merritt was far too distracted to read. She went back to the room she was currently sharing with Merritt and grabbed a pair of gloves from the desk. Her heart was hammering in her chest, so loudly that if they were hiding it would’ve given her away. Their bags were already lined up by their doors and she had even helped Jack throw what little shit he had into a backpack, setting it down on the chair he had been sitting it.

The door was kicked open with a thud and at least ten agents were flanking the guy in charge as he went in with his gun drawn. The hotel managers stood in the back, not looking remotely thrilled at the rough treament of the doors. “FBI! Hands were I can see’em!” he called, among the shouts of,

“Let me see your hands!” from another agent.

And, “Let’s go, get’em up!”

Merritt did his best to act calm, voice devoid of any real emotion as he held up his pointer finger and lazily said, “Uno minuto.”

Jack raised his hands from where his feet were crossed on a table as he lounged in one of the most comfortable chairs he had ever sat in, his foot a single twitch away from knocking over the vase on the table. He didn’t look frightened of what they might find, but more annoyed, like the arrest was nothing more than a traffic jam he had to deal with. Danny turned around, looking surprised but unable to help the smirk that seemed to be lingering at the corners of his lips. With his playing cards in his left hand, he turned to the right, unsurprised by the voices coming from behind him. He lowered one hand, looking over towards Merritt as one of the agents said,

“Put the book down.”

Merritt did, both hands going up to hold up a V with his fingers, a la Dwight Eisenhower and he responded with, “Okay,” his voice stating that he was simply appeasing the agents. “You got me.”

Henley went downstairs then, it wasn’t part of the plan, but she really had been cold and heard stories about how the FBI interrogation rooms were even colder, to make you want to confess and she had wanted a jacket. As she went down the spiral staircase, an agent cocked their gun and pointed at her. “Freeze! Hands in the air!”

She stopped on the platform on a curve, putting her jacket on the right arm with a gasp. “Oh my!” She let her jacket hang from her right arm and put both hands up at shoulder level. “Do one of you guys mind giving us a hand with our bags?” It was exactly the type of cocky thing that Jack would’ve said had he not wanted to piss off the agents any more than they already were and when Jack turned to look up at her with a raised eyebrow and an impressed look on his face, she winked. A silent this one’s for you.

The agent in the lead never took his eyes or gun off Henley and he pointed to the door with his finger. “Let’s go.”

The Horsemen were walked down from their top floor hotel room, imagine trying to fit all fourteen of them at once into the elevators with their bags, Henley’s black sparkling suitcase rolling behind one agent. Henley couldn’t help but nudge Jack and gesture to it as best she could with her hands handcuffed behind her back. It would’ve been easy to break out of, she was an escape artist, after all, but she still wasn’t about to deviate from the plan.

They walked them out through the casino on the first floor and they were met with applause, people cheering and shouting and Jack was at the lead, soaking up all the positive attention that he could.

Henley knew that they had already spoken to Merritt, given who frustrated the guy, Agent Rhodes, she was sure his name was, seemed to be when he sat down at the table, in the chair she had been spinning with her foot. The women, Dray, looked like she was in a better mood, but not by much.

“So, Henley Reeves,” Rhodes began after Dray had entered the room, closing the door behind them. “Escape artist. 26. How’d a nice girl like you end up in the companionship of these other guys?”

Henley didn’t answer that, raising an eyebrow at Rhodes and giving him a glare that said she wasn’t buying into this misogynistic response.

“Fine,” he replied. “Don’t answer. What is being an escape artist?” Just for his own clarification, than anything.

Henley smirked, leaning forward in her chair and letting the handcuff chains rattle against the table as she glanced around the room. “It means that if I wanted to, I could get out of these handcuffs at any time.” She couldn’t help but check herself out in the mirror, it was helpful to see the handcuffs from a different angle if she hadn’t practiced with them before. “If you want, I could prove it to you.”

Dray cleared her throat. “That won’t be necessary.”

With a bang, the door to Jack’s interrogation room shut. “Jack Wilder,” Rhodes said loudly, waking Jack up from where he was leaning back in his chair, asleep. “Or should I say Ethan King?”

Rhodes and Dray sat down across the table from Jack and Rhodes glared at him until his feet found the ground. He shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was a blatant lie, one he hardly tried to hide, but he denied the accusation nonetheless, giving Dray a genuine smile. “It’s honestly just Jack.”

“You have quite the past for being just Jack,” Rhodes responded, holding Jack’s file with a mugshot in front of it. “Petty theft, false claims of abuse …” Jack had gotten especially good at reading people after spending a year with Merritt and he knew that Rhodes didn’t believe the claims of abuse were false, but he was only reading out of the file. “So tell me, how did you go from pickpocketing to stealing 3.2 euros out of a French bank?”

Jack forced a laugh out. “I guess we’re just that good.”

Dray took note of the timer that peaked up from under Henley’s jacket. “It says here that your soulmate happens to be one of the Horsemen, Merritt, is that right?”

Henley nodded. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

Instantly, Rhodes seemed to catch onto the point of what Dray was doing. “Would you say that Mr. McKinney forced you to help with the robbery of Credit Republicain de Paris?” He was trying to play them against one another, plant the seeds in Henley’s head that would grow into something they could use to pin down the Horsemen.

“No. He didn’t.”

“So it was of your own accord?”

Henley knew better than to answer that.

“So, Mr. Wilder,” Rhodes said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “How does it feel to be the odd man out. Ms. Reeves and Mr. McKinney have each other, you and Mr. Atlas don’t get along and yet, here your timer is, sitting at zero. Is there a girl or guy back home that might have you stealing money in the hopes for a better life together?”

Jack knew they were going to go for his timer. It was a weak spot for most people, people who didn’t hit zero yet but he was already there and it was still a jab. “Really can’t say you’re right,” he responded simply.

Dray seemed to go with the kinder approach and Jack had watched his father growing up enough to know that this was all a ploy, good cop bad cop. He knew that Dray was supposed to be seen as a welcoming figure, someone that would make him feel safe. She asked, “So what can you say?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Dray looked at his paper and sighed. It had all of Jack’s information on it, and it was a damn good identity. They had run him through facial recognition and pulled up information on an Ethan King who went missing after shooting and killing his father, but if they hadn’t, he would’ve had nothing on Jack but be that as it may, his identity was still solid and there was no real proof that could really have gotten him an arrest on this. But the kid was barely 21. He was too young to really be dragged into this mess. She looked over at Rhodes and sighed, shaking her head. Jack saw this, leaned back and smirked.

Home fucking free.

Jack was the last one out of the gate, holding his jacket in his hand as they walked out of the Las Vegas’ FBI headquarters. Danny opened the door of the first white car for Henley and Meritt and Jack headed for the second one without so much as looking but he heard the car door close from the one in front of him and when he was about to close his own door, a hand caught it, holding it open. He looked up as Danny ducked himself into the car and closed the door behind him. “Hey.”

Danny smiled back. “Hey,” he said, sinking down just a little in his seat and looking over at Jack. “Henley told me that you were worried they’d bring up the arrest warrants? Did they?”

“They tried,” Jack responded with a shrug, letting himself slouch against Danny and resting a head on his shoulder. It felt natural enough but he didn’t know how his neck was going to survive and with a laugh, he pulled back up. “No, sorry, it hurts like that too much.” He settled for taking Danny’s hand and squeezing it lightly and Danny, in what seemed to be a quick minute of revelation in no one else being able to see them, lifted their hands and kissed the back of Jack’s with a smile.

If Henley could see them now.

Chapter Text

“They’re going to be the first magicians in history to get laid!” As Conan O’Brien joked around with Arthur Tressler, Jack shifted in his seat. He still felt off from the FBI interrogation, even with the reassurances that Danny was there for him. They hadn’t spoken much since that day, too busy with planning and working out the details, trying to make their arguments sound convincing enough that Tressler would play into their hands but not too rehearsed that it sounded robotic. They needed to be right in that sweet spot that would get them the security information they so desperately needed. Jack was sitting across from Jasmine, Tressler’s wife, who was sweet and kind but bound to go down with her husband. He could hear Henley and Merritt flirting a few rows up but he didn’t say anything. He pretended to listen to what Jasmine was saying, something about being excited for this show, even threw in a nod for good measure but he was entirely up in his head. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest and he begged himself not to let his nerves get the better of him. Jasmine, seemingly getting that he wasn’t all that interested in conversation, moved and sat down behind her husband. His interview via Skype would be over soon but Jack had stopped listening.

Jack traced over one of the faded scars on his arm, wincing not because of the pain, which had long since gone away, but because of the sharp memories it held. It was the one right above his timer and he could remember every detail about that night.

He didn’t blink as his father turned his heavy lidded eyes and whiskey breath on him. Anything to get the attention off of Nora and Declan. He stood his ground, fifteen and heavily protective of his mother and his little siblings. “You smell like ass. When was the last time you bathed, and not just in booze?” His voice was calm, masking the heavy nerves that buzzed in his stomach. He was braced for the pain, every time, but that didn’t make it any easier. It never hurt less. He just got better at withstanding it.

“Fucking little smartass! Did I raise you to be that way? No, I raised you to be fucking respectful of your goddamn elders, not some wiseass who thinks he can get away with saying whatever he wants.” He lit up a cigar and immediately, Jack knew what was coming. His stomach twisted and the idea and he wanted to run, but he forced himself to stand his ground. “You get that from your mother, the fucking bitch.”

His mother. She was standing behind his father, Nora and Declan shielded behind her body. She looked at Jack, or Ethan still, with tears in her eyes and wet tracks on her face. He was stalling for time, they both knew it. He was giving her the chance to get out, to take them out. She was hesitant to leave him, wanted to refuse but Jack nodded subtly when his father lifted the bottle of whiskey and took a long swig, nearly finishing off the bottle. She mouthed something at him, something Jack didn’t make out but assumed they were kind words. The front door opened as silently as it could, she had gotten a lot of practice over the years, and the kids were ushered out first, before herself. She didn’t close the door right away, turning back to give her eldest a yearning look. He nodded again, mouthing “GO!” before she left.

Ethan didn’t attention back to his father in time. His head was turned, but his eyes weren’t there quick enough to prepare for the hand clenching around his arm, hard enough that it would leave bruises by itself. The cigar itself sent the feeling of fire down his arm but Ethan didn’t move. He didn’t wince or flinch or even make a whimper. He could take it. He would take it. When he didn’t move, his father dug the cigar in even deeper. “Gotta rotate it, you know. Get a nice, even burn.” That would leave an ugly mark, a reminder to all that Ethan King was damaged goods. No one would want someone like him, someone with that much baggage. Even as his father threw his arm down, Ethan stood still. He didn’t move even an inch as his father eventually passed out on the couch with the cigar in the ashtray in front of him. Jack didn’t do anything to care for it. He bolted up the stairs two at a time and dove for his bed. He was quiet as he went, not a sound could be heard as he moved. He even knew which floorboards to avoid stepping on for fear of waking his father and incurring his wrath. He let it burn and scar simply to keep quiet. He didn’t have the luxury of sneaking out. The timer glowing its green light right below it helped calm the tears. Someday, he would be free of this. He had to be.

“Cheap and meaningless, maybe, but, uh, not time consuming.” Henley burst out laughing and the pitch of it snapped Jack out of his thoughts. Daymares. His chest was heaving as he came out of his head and he would have rolled the sleeves of his shirt down had Danny not moved to take Jasmine’s seat. He caught sight of the scar on Jack’s arm before he could hide it and his look said it all. He reached out to take Jack’s arm before Jack pulled away.

“Don’t,” he muttered, voice sharp and a little louder than he meant it to be. He rolled his sleeve down just enough to cover the top part of his timer and shook his head. Everyone else’s attention was drawn to them but Jack didn’t care.

Danny held out his hand once more, a silent offering that if Jack would trust him, he’d be gentle. He didn’t pressure Jack, Danny seemed to know when it would help versus when it would make things worse and with Jack, pressuring him usually ended up making him want to flee. Not that there was anywhere he could go, they were on a jet. But he needed Jack focused on the show and anything that was distracting him was trouble for them. After a moment, Jack swallowed roughly around that lump in his throat and let Danny take his arm, gently pushing up the sleeve. “Christ.” He didn’t go further than the one scar he had seen before. Each one was a story that Jack wasn’t willing to tell him yet. He was fine with that. It could wait. “Jack …”

Jack shook his head again, not trusting his voice not to crack or waver. “Please don’t, Danny.” He used please. That wasn’t a word they heard from Jack very often. He could feel Henley’s eyes on him and she spoke up,

“You need to talk this out, Jack. Bottling it up isn’t going to help.” He stood up and sat down across from him. “Especially not before a show.” It was her subtle way of reminding them that they needed Tressler’s security information. Sooner, rather than later.

Jack stood up, his arm tearing from Danny’s grasp. “I’ll be fine. Just … just leave me alone, all right?” It wasn’t a real question as he stalked off to the back of the plane.

Behind his back, Henley was gesturing Danny forward, towards Jack. “Go!” she whispered, pulling his arm and jerking a thumb at Jack. “Talk to him.” She would have but Danny was probably the better candidate for this. He was Jack’s soul mate, after all. After a few gentle shoves from Henley and one not so gentle one from Merritt, Danny was stumbling back and into the seat next to Jack.

"Hey …”

“Hey.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He knew that he wouldn’t be okay if someone outright demanded he spill every detail about how he felt with his parents never being home, let alone being there for him. Jack just shrugged before he shook his head, thinking it over. This was a territory he never ventured into willingly and he wasn’t about to do so now. If he wanted a therapist, he would have sought one out years ago. Slowly, Danny took Jack’s hand, just as he had done days ago in the backseat of the car and brought it to his lips, kissing his hand. “If you want to talk, I’m always here. Plus, Henley would probably sit you down and play therapist with you for hours if you asked.”

Jack laughed wetly, which took Danny by surprise. He had never thought of Jack as the type of person who might cry and yet here he was, dropping the facade he put up years ago to protect himself. “I know. .. Thanks.” Danny leaned over and kissed his temple, squeezing his hand in a silent show of support as the last few tremors of Jack’s crying overtook him. Eventually, the sobs stopped and Jack wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, forcing himself to shake it off and give a weak smile.

Danny leaned in close to whisper, “Wanna go get Tressler’s security information so we can rob him blind?” It was a trick question, they had to do it anyway but it was more to check where Jack was mentally. If he wasn’t up for it, they would leave him in the back and give him time to get himself together. However, Jack smirked, the cocky attitude returning once more and he stood up, rolling up his sleeves before he could think better of it. They all knew now, more or less. He was ready for this. After all, these people were the closest thing he had to a family.

Taking Danny's hand again, he asked, “When aren’t I down for stealing from the rich?”