Work Text:
the first time, it was the SAP again.
they’d hit him hard, a katana through the stomach followed by a blunt strike to the head. he was out cold.
brian sent the SAP away (doing all the work, as usual) and made sure nobody saw him carry danny back home bridal-style.
the next morning, danny woke up and attempted to make pancakes for breakfast. he burned them. it was like nothing had happened.
----------
the second time, it was an accident.
danny and brian were out on the water as per danny’s request. he wanted to meet a real life mermaid. brian didn’t tell him they weren’t real.
danny, while leaning precariously over the edge of their boat, was overcome by gravity. he plummeted head-first into the water, not at all aided by his frantic flailing.
brian was driving the boat. he didn’t notice danny had fallen until he saw sparkly spandex and brown curls floating beside the vessel. he scooped up his unconscious partner in the boat’s large fishing net.
danny woke up in the middle of the night in the bathtub. (brian didn’t want to get the nice carpet of danny’s bedroom wet.) danny didn’t bother drying off, opting to let his sheets air-dry after he fell back asleep in his warm silk bed.
----------
the third time, it was brian.
danny had been more unbearably annoying than usual, calling brian names and getting the pair into more trouble than they could handle.
they miraculously handled it anyway, like they always did. brian was still mad, though.
he stabbed danny once they returned home, because of course he did. danny deserved it, after the events of the day.
he was fine, of course, and woke up around noon to find a plate of cold chicken nuggets on the kitchen table.
----------
the fourth time, it was some random girl and a door.
she was beautiful, and danny didn’t hesitate to grab brian’s arm and tell him so. danny wanted to approach her. brian wanted to go home.
danny ran to her anyway, stopping at a safe distance so he could look cool as he leaned on the wall of a nearby building. he pulled the basic “oh, hey, didn’t see you there,” and brian almost killed him.
danny straightened his arm and braced it against the wall to balance himself. the girl turned around to face him. danny had barely started to speak, “hey baby, what’s a pretty lady like you doing out alone?”, when his hand slipped and he fell face-first onto the concrete below.
that wasn’t what killed him, he was fine after that except for a few scrapes. it was what happened next that killed danny again; the door in front of him opened wide and hit his head, knocking him out cold. it was a fairly heavy door, and it most definitely cracked his skull.
brian dragged him by his feet back to the ship and took them home. brian didn’t notice when danny woke up, he was asleep himself, but he found a note on the stove the next day.
“ninja brian - thanks for dragging me home every time i die. from, danny <3. p.s. i made you breakfast.” sure enough, there was a soggy bowl of several cereals mixed together sitting next to the note. it was normal again.
----------
the fifth time, it was aliens.
danny and brian were going to stay in their space mansion for a bit. it was basically a road trip, but there wasn’t a road.
danny had begged brian to stop on a nearby planet for just a few minutes so he could get snacks. he promised brian he’d get enough for the both of them. brian, not wanting to argue, parked the ship.
the next thing brian heard was yelling and lasers firing. he sighed, stretched his legs, and left the ship.
danny was face-down on the ground with a hole burned through his chest. he was still holding a bag of pretzel bites.
brian took him back to the ship, and danny woke up right as they arrived at the mansion. he didn’t get to eat his pretzel bites.
----------
the final time, it was brian.
or, well, brian didn’t know what actually killed danny, but he was pretty damn sure it was his fault somehow.
all he knew was that he found danny’s bruised, bloodied body outside the door of their apartment on earth.
brian brought him inside, dropped him on his bed, and waited.
the next morning, danny was still in bed. brian didn't check for a pulse or the rise and fall of his chest, like an idiot, and he made himself some breakfast.
brian left a plate for danny as well, when he woke up.
at noon, brian checked on danny again. his position had changed, so he was probably just sleeping in, brian assumed.
brian made lunch and once again left a plate for danny next to his cold plate of breakfast.
hours later, danny hadn't stirred. both meals still sat untouched on the table.
brian's stomach clenched a bit.
he knocked on the door. no reply. he opened it just a crack, flicking the light on to hopefully wake danny up.
nothing.
brian made his way to the bed, steps short and even. danny, he signed, despite his partner's closed eyes.
brian shook danny gently. nothing. harder. nothing. he took the blanket off, slapped him, lifted him off the bed. nothing, nothing, nothing.
danny's body was limp. he was cold, and brian now noticed his lack of movement.
he wasn't breathing.
brian threw him back on the bed and leaned down to check for a pulse. he checked danny's wrist, chest, throat. it was silent.
he didn't remember how to correctly do CPR, but he tried anyway. his shaking hands couldn't follow a consistent rhythm and he didn't know exactly where to press, it wasn't working, nothing was working.
"danny," he spoke, for the first time in years. for the first time he could remember. his throat burned and stung and brian couldn't help but grab his neck, mouth open wide under the mask.
"danny. danny, dagh-" he couldn't say anything else. he felt his entire body tense, throat burning red-hot, and he almost felt nauseous.
this wasn't real. it was a nightmare, it had to be, because danny sexbang can't die. he'd been killed so many times, most of all by brian, and he always came back. always. it was like nothing ever happened, like he magically healed himself in his slumber.
did danny only have a certain amount of lives, like a cat? and this time, the one time brian wasn't with him, he lost his last life?
brian wasn't with him. he wasn't there to tell danny to stop whatever what he was doing. he didn't know who did it, but he was ninja fucking brian. he could've stopped them. he could've done something.
but he didn't.
he wasn't there with danny and then he died. danny died.
danny sexbang, the seemingly immortal spandex-wearing partner of brian's that he'd tried to kill hundreds of times.
brian tore his mask off and fell to the floor, head in hands.
he didn't cry - brian wasn't really sure he could cry anymore - but his body jerked and curled in on itself.
he stayed in the bedroom for god knows how long, hoping, wishing, waiting for danny to wake up.
he never did.