Work Text:
Daniel was eight when he was diagnosed. Autism Spectrum Disorder, neat black letters stamped on a thin medical file.
That had been it, really. The last straw for his dad. The guy had buggered off, and left Danny and his mum to their own devices.
If Daniel was completely honest, which wasn’t hugely out of character, he hadn’t minded. His dad hadn’t been bad or anything, just a bit of a mean drunk.
His mum was the one that impressed upon him the importance of hiding it.
“People judge, tateleh,” she’d murmur, smoothing back his hair just a touch too lightly. “you can’t let them.”
And so he didn’t.
---
Henley had worked with him for three years, and she’d never known. Danny was good, he knew that, but he wasn’t self absorbed enough to think he was that good at the whole NT masking game.
He’d tested the water with her, before hiring. Slipped in a couple of questions about neurodivergence. She’d mentioned something about autistics being maths geniuses and ADHD being caused by processed foods, and Daniel had known he’d be safe.
And he was right. Ish. She never caught a full meltdown, but she saw him in a couple of pretty impressive shutdowns. Shows tended to do that to him. But Daniel found he could pass it off as rudeness, as bad temper, as self absorption. And it worked for his (still far too frequent) social blunders too.
Play the asshole. Danny could play the asshole. It was better than playing the fool.
---
Within five minutes of meeting Merritt, he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance. Danny was good with social cues. Very good, in fact. He’d studied every book he could rustle up, practiced endlessly in every performance.
But he wasn’t good enough for a professional allistic. He knew Merritt would catch on eventually, that something about him wasn’t quite right. It was just a waiting game.
He tried to swallow the sickness that welled up at the thought.
And the thing was, he could walk away, leave the other three to the crazy plan the Eye had laid out.
But that was the thing. It wasn’t crazy. It was beautiful, and intricate, and had Danny almost humming with glee. He could feel those good old special interest vibes sparking up his spine, tightening his chest with excitement..
He couldn’t just walk away.
---
They were six months in when Daniel got direct confirmation. Merritt knew.
They were still doing separate gigs, but were starting to drum up interest, and their contact had assured them that Tressler’s head was starting to turn.
They were basking in a rare moment of celebration. Well, Jack, Merritt and Daniel were, anyway. Henley had wandered off home at around 10 – she’d had a gig the following morning, and hadn’t wanted to be too hung over.
Jack had switched the tv on, and it had taken Merritt less than a second to join him when he’d realised Darren Brown was on the screen. And, well, Daniel kinda liked the guy too, so he’d gravitated towards them, and had finally decided to drag one of the office chairs over and join them when the ad break started.
And there it was. Autism Speaks. Light it up blue. Autism will steal your children, wreck your home, and tear your family to shreds.
Daniel couldn’t help it. He felt himself stiffen up, felt his shoulders spasm towards his ears. He shoved them back down, and slipped his hands under his thighs, closing his eyes for a moment to try to get himself in order.
When he opened them again, Merritt was looking at him. The man nodded, once, then turned back to the screen.
Daniel had felt his stomach plummet, and had spent the next half hour performing very carefully controlled breathing exercises. But after the half hour passed, he actually started to feel okay.
Merritt hadn’t looked surprised. He must have known for a while then. But as far as Danny could tell, he hadn’t been treated differently. Merritt still saw him as whole, as fully human, still gave him almost enough shit to rival Henley. And he hadn’t told the others. What reason would he have to suddenly tell them now?
The hypnotised guy (“obviously an actor!” Merritt was asserting, whilst Jack passionately denied) was waking up, back in his family home, wrapping his mum up in a long hug.
Daniel breathed out, really slow and proper this time, and tried to sink back into his chair. He even reached over and snagged a few kernels of popcorn that Jack had produced from gd knows where.
Merritt wouldn’t bring it up. This was okay.
Okay.
---
He had shutdowns around them. Even a panic attack on one memorable occasion. But none of them, not even Henley, had seen him meltdown. He owed his success to a concoction of careful manoeuvring mixed with pure dumb luck.
That luck was about to run out.
Daniel was always fragile after stage performances. He had to prance around for solid hours under bright lights with blaring music. Come on. Even neurotypicals struggled with that after a while.
He wore inner ear plugs, and compression vests, and did his best to avert his gaze from the halogens, but there was only so much he was capable of.
They had a little bit of time to decompress back at the hotel, but Danny couldn’t make the most of it. They had to be lounging, expectant, when the FBI got there. They needed to exude an aura of unaffected confidence. That was the only way they would be able to pull the next bit off.
The interrogation room had been properly difficult. Daniel had felt the fluros buzzing against his eyelids, until his entire brain seemed to be pounding with it. He’d managed to slip the cuffs though, had attached Agent Rhodes to the table, switched the phone, and even shot a grin at the camera. He only hoped it hadn’t been too subdued.
They’d been kept for a few hours, and Daniel had started to slip a little. He’d needed to. The bouncing of his leg, the hand tugging at his hair, the rocking that he tried to keep subtle. They kept him tethered, but only just.
He could feel the meltdown sparking through his body, shooting up his limbs, pins and needles that were getting more painful by the moment.
The FBI let them go, finally. Daniel left the smart talking to the others. Henley and Merritt both had sizable mouths on themselves, and Jack wasn’t far behind. He didn’t hear a word they said – it was all starting to sound like buzzing.
Brilliant.
Daniel should probably have cared a little more about the inevitable nuclear explosion, but he was in too much pain. He just wanted to keep in together until the car. After that, who even cared anymore?
He narrowed his eyes to slits, focussing only on the footfalls in front of him.
And then a hand was falling on his shoulder, and he was being manoeuvred into the backseat of their getaway vehicle.
That wasn’t right, exactly, he was supposed to be driving. He wasn’t in a state for it, obviously. He cracked his eyes open, got a glimpse of red hair. Henley. Fair enough.
It hurt. Gd, it hurt so much.
Daniel wondered, occasionally, how he would go about describing a meltdown to an allistic.
Pain worked. Pins and needles, aching, ripping pain. For him, it usually started in his legs, but it could spread everywhere pretty fast. And it was like ants, or spiders, crawling under his skin. And it was like being punched, over and over again, and trying to keep your cool, but at some point you snap and try to take the bullies on. And it was like a seizure, and it was like a migraine. And it wasn’t like that, because he could keep his head about him, even as his body fucked around. And it wasn’t that bad, really, in comparison to other things. And it was one of the worst physical experiences he ever had. But it was all just metaphorical approximation, and as such, he wasn't sure it was useful.
Daniel felt something thump against his chest, and he just bit back a groan.
“Daniel, relax.”
Daniel felt his muscles go limp, and he listed forwards. His head hit something soft.
It took him far too long to realise it was Merritt’s chest.
Usually, Danny would be furious about being hypnotised. This time, he was just relieved. He still felt sick, aggressively so, and his head was pounding, but he would be able to hold off the meltdown for another few minutes at least. Enough time for the horsemen to get back to their hotel.
He would have to deal with Henley and Jack later. He didn’t know what they were thinking about his behaviour, and he couldn’t tune himself in enough to process any of the conversation that was flying around. He just kept his head down, let Merritt support his bodyweight.
He didn’t have the energy for humiliation, but he was looking forward to dealing with that later.
The car stopped, and he was being ushered out. Probably half carried. Daniel really wondered how Merritt was explaining this to the others.
He did hope he’d come up with something, anything other than ‘autistic meltdown.’
The hotel lights were blinding, and they were starting to pierce through the balm Merritt had draped over Danny’s senses. He felt the sickness start to build again in his gut, and tapped Merritt on the shoulder.
Hurry up.
His message must have got through, because next thing he knew, the elevator doors were closing behind them, and Merritt was swiping them up to their floor.
Daniel wanted to ask where the other horsemen had ended up, but when he opened his mouth, all he managed to produce was a muffled grunt.
He must have properly gone non-verbal somewhere along the way. Lovely.
The movement of the elevator wasn’t doing much for Daniel’s stomach, and the elevator music, usually easy to ignore, was really grating at his ears.
…well, there wasn’t anyone else around, and if Merritt kept sticking to him like this, he was bound to see much worse anyway.
Daniel let his weight drop further, and he tucked his head against Merritt’s chest, squeezing his eyes as tight as he could manage.
“Calm, Danny,” he heard Merritt say, and he felt the pull of the command, but it wasn’t strong enough this time. Daniel wasn’t easily hypnotised in the best of circumstances. There was only so long that Merritt’s mojo could hold the meltdown at bay.
That timeframe was steadily coming to an end. Danny felt electricity race down his arms, and he bit his lip, hard. Nearly there.
The lift doors swung open, and Danny was being shepherded forward, out into the glare of even more unforgiving fluros.
And that was that. The straw that broke the camel’s back.
Danny tried to shove Merritt back, but the mentalist had too good a grip. He growled, keeping his eyes clenched and trying to hunch in on himself, but it was to much. He swung out, and from the ‘oof’ that sounded, his punch must have landed on something soft. He hoped whatever body part he’d connected with wasn’t too fragile.
He felt a hand close around his forearm, and before he could even think to stop it he was swinging again. He heard Merritt curse this time.
Aw hell, he thought to himself, and it was his last coherent thought for a while.
---
It was the worst meltdown he’d had in years. He remembered snippets, but the pain blanked a lot of it out. Merritt had gotten them both into the hotel room, at some point, and Daniel was pretty sure he’d completely lost his shit. Kicking, screaming, sobbing, head-banging, the whole nine yards.
Well, he was a magician. Even when semi-conscious, he knew how to put on a performance.
He came to in fits and starts, and wasn’t quite able to stifle a whimper of pain.
Lovely. Even the meltdown hadn’t fully cleared it.
This was going to have to be a full on recovery thing. Burnout protocol and everything. Wonderful, absolutely won-der-ful. It wasn’t like he had heaps of stuff he was supposed to be doing in the next few days thank you so much brain.
“Hey, Danny,” he heard Merritt say, and he blinked his eyes open. The mentalist had managed to manoeuvre him into his bed. The room was shrouded in darkness, with all the curtains cinched tight. And when Danny looked at the bed, he had to blink for a moment to process. It seemed that Merritt had dumped Danny’s suitcase full of clothes out onto the bed, and layered multiple jackets over his duvet.
Was that…? Wow, okay. Good neurotypical, very good neurotypical. Merritt had used Danny’s clothes to cobble together a makeshift weighted blanked. Danny had genuinely never considered the idea. It was a bit hot, but it would definitely do in a pinch. Another thing to add to his repertoire, he supposed.
“How you doing, kid?” Merritt asked, and Danny looked at him properly, and oh no. Merritt’s left eye looked puffy and tender. That was definitely going to bruise. It took Danny a minute to find the words (what he couldn’t have given for a PECS book right then), but he got there eventually.
“Sorry. Sorry, I’m so sorry, I-“
“Yeah, you should be.”
That shut Danny up, and he felt a little indignation swell up under the guilt. Sure, he wanted to apologise and own his mistake, but it wasn’t really his fault… not it the manner that a black eye was usually someone’s fault.
But Merritt continued. “My face is my best feature, Dan! If it’s fucked up, I’ve got no chance.”
…and all at once, Danny got it.
Merritt sounded like himself, snarly and bad tempered and self-interested.
He was treating Daniel exactly the same, like he usually treated him.
And it was an effort. Merritt was good at what he did, but Daniel was good at reading people too – he’d been studying most of his life. Merritt looked almost the same, almost relaxed. But his eyes were darting, more than usual. He was tense, unsure.
Daniel found a smile, and made it sincere.
“If your act relied on your good looks, you’d have been screwed from day one.”
Merritt scoffed, and Daniel could hear that it wasn’t quite natural. But it was getting there.
He didn’t have time to wait, though. They needed to get down to business.
“What did you tell the others?” Daniel asked.
Merritt paused, and Daniel caught the flicker of apology in his grimace.
“I told them you were drunk.”
…wait. Hold on…
“I don’t drink!” Daniel yelped, incredulous. “They know I don’t drink! You all know I don’t drink!”
“Well I wasn’t expecting to have to cover for you, was I?”
“But your whole profession is conning people! You couldn’t come up with anything better to sell them on?”
Merritt shot Danny a dirty look.
“I was pretty tired too, kid, and I wasn’t expecting you to collapse on us like that. If you had given me two minutes of warning, I would’ve come up with something better.”
…and Danny sighed. Merritt was right. There was no use getting angry about it. Merritt had done his best, and he’d kept Danny in once piece all the way to the hotel.
But there was no way Henley and Jack were going to believe the drunk excuse.
Well, that synched it.
“Where are they at the moment?” Danny asked. He didn’t meet Merritt’s eyes. There wasn’t any point, really.
Merritt blinked, and looked down at his phone. He thumbed through it for a bit, before answering.
“It seems they’re bar-hopping, preparing for our flight tomorrow by getting properly hammered. Lucky bastards”
He flipped his screen around, shoving a blurred picture of Henley into Danny’s face. Danny couldn’t help cringing away from the brightness. When he opened his eyes, the phone was gone.
Okay, plan time. Danny was good at plans.
“I’ll tell them the truth in the morning,” he decided. He didn’t miss Merritt’s sharp intake of breath, but he barrelled on past the sick feeling the statement caused him. “For now, let’s both get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long one.”
Merritt regarded him for a moment, and Daniel wasn’t a neurotypical, and he never would be, but he thought that was an expression of respect.
“Right,” was all Merritt said. “Call me if you need anything.”
Daniel nodded. He knew it wasn’t enough to fully communicate his gratitude. But he had to deal with the emotional fallout of this first, himself, before he could detangle himself from the shame enough to say thank-you.
Merritt grunted, then pushed himself out of the chair, and lumbered off, but he shut the door near-silently, betraying his careless act to be what it was – an act. Danny lay back, and tried not to think too much.
He just wanted to sleep. He would probably have a few nightmares, and that would allow him to work through the more emotional side of this whilst unconscious. Then he could properly process the absolute clusterfuck that the last few hours had been.
It took a while, but his eyes started to blink closed.
And then nothing.
---
Danny had been right. His dreams were filled with guilt, and terror, and muddled challenges, where all he knew was that he was doing something wrong, and it was his fault. He stood on stage and the rabbit died. He shuffled cards and broke a man’s jaw.
He woke up with tears on his cheek, but feeling better, somehow.
He knew what he had to do next. Their flight to New Orleans was at 3pm. The others would be sitting outside, cobbling together an after party hangover brunch.
He would sit down. He would ignore his terror. And he would tell them. He knew he had Merritt on his side, so that was fine. He’d also noticed Jack slipping a pill around lunch time. Just once, but Danny knew what Adderall looked like. Jack would probably at least be understanding. Cousin diagnoses and all that.
It was just Henley that was the unknown variable.
But he could leave. He didn’t have to stay, and explain, and justify. He was an adult now. If a situation became uncomfortable, he was allowed to get up and go for a walk. Any time. He wasn’t trapped.
Danny got out of bed, steadied his breathing, and opened the door.