Chapter Text
Daniel readjusts the bag on his shoulder trying to keep himself from panicking, as he checks the departure board. His stomach is churning uncomfortably and he feels a bit like he might cry if he doesn't get a grip. He'd woken up late and after a brief argument with his parents, he'd raced around, barely able to get his belongings together. His parents are hovering nearby, trying to spend the next five minutes with him before he has to leave for Mammoth. He nods along to whatever they are saying, his heart thumping, not able to focus much on anything. He's instead, focused on running his fingers up and down his gold necklace, tugging a bit more than he usually does. His mother's touch is gentle on his elbow and it snaps him out of the motion. "You've got everything?" She checks, and he gives a slight nod. It's hard when her brown eyes start glistening, with a big watery sheen that makes Daniel bite his lip and look away before he starts crying as well. He's so glad when she pulls him into a hug and he can hide his face in her shoulder.
"Look after yourself," she whispers. Daniel huffs a little into her shoulder, "I will," he promises. Her hands stroke his shoulders firmly, before letting him go.
“Keep in touch, alright mate?,” His dad says, clapping him on the back, rubbing slightly. “Remember Michelle will be over with Isaac on the seventeenth, so you'll have someone there in case...yeah," his dad trails off. Daniel blinks, nodding dumbly. They've had this conversation a few times already. He doesn't want to have it again.
"I need to go," he says quietly.
“Just please call okay?” his mother says, wringing her hands. He nods and gives her a kiss on the cheek, gives his father a quick hug. He takes one last look at his parents before he walks through the sliding doors into the international terminal. His mum is twisting her wedding ring before she gives him another little wave. She’s worried. Well, more worried than she usually is at the start of a season. He doesn't feel quite ready to leave but it's better than being here, lonely and restless.
Daniel is dangerously close to missing his flight as he races through security, hurrying to his gate. He manages to get his boarding pass scanned with minutes to spare. He walks across the tarmac, the weight of his bags and the heat of Perth summer pressing down on him. He’s one of the last people to board the plane and by the time he finds his seat and shoves his bag into the overhead compartment his cheeks are damp and his eyes are foggy. He doesn’t want to be here, and he really, really doesn't want to leave them. The thought of being away from home, away from his family and everything familiar again, terrifies him. He didn't used to get anxious but he's been away from snowboarding for so long and every good memory feels tainted now.
The whole journey is almost 30 hours and by the time he's standing in LAX, his legs are cramped and stiff from the awkward position he's been in for the last three hours of his flight. He's tired and thirsty and still has two hours till his next flight so finds a cafe in the terminal, and buys a can of Red Bull. He drinks it quickly, while he sends his parents a quick text to assure them he's fine. When he stands, blood rushes to hit head and he realises quickly that he needs to eat, at least something to get him through the last leg of the trip. He feels a bit giddy and can barely move, not able to do anything other than hold onto the seat he's just vacated. He sits back down and groans, blinking rapidly. He drops his head and rubs his eyes and decides he really needs to buy food.
After a few moments, he forces himself to stand, shoving his belongings into his bag before slinging it over his shoulder. Everything around him sways and the world goes completely black.
Daniel doesn't remember much when he comes to, just a haze of colors, dim lights, a dull sound of rustling fabric, his head hurts and his stomach feels weird and he vaguely realizes that someone is standing over him. He blinks a few times, trying to focus. Fuck. This has never happened before.
"Can you hear me?" He hears someone say and he tries to nod but nothing happens. He wants to sleep and he wants to be somewhere soft and comfy so he tries to move his limbs but the best he manages is to shift his arm slightly but then the hand is gone from his arm and Daniel groans. His eyelids feel like they've been cemented shut and his mouth is dry and tastes like cotton. He tries again to move and finds himself sitting upright. A glass of water is pressed against his hand and he makes sure he's not going to pass out again before taking a sip, hand trembling, spilling water on the floor between his legs. He drinks what he can, the glass disappearing from his hand and it hits him that he has, or had a flight to catch. He sobers a bit more now and he looks around, eyes struggling to adjust to the bright glare of the overhead lighting and the sun pouring through large windows nearby. "I'm okay," He starts, blinking slowly. "What time is it?" he croaks, grimacing as his voice scratches uncomfortably along his dry throat.
"Uh a little after one," The employee from the cafe answers, still looming next to him. She's either concerned or angry, and he can't decide which. She probably would be, having to look after his unconscious body. "What are you doing now, you have any travel plans today?" She says, American accent still sounding a little foreign to Daniel's ears.
"I have to go," He replies, blinking slowly and reaching for his bag lying a few feet away. He pulls it towards himself, clumsy and tired. The woman helps him coordinate his arms through the straps when he struggles. He sighs as the weight hits his shoulder and starts wobbling, fighting back his dizziness. "I'm meant to be on a flight," He tries to explain but his words are coming out slow and unfocused. "So I need to go. thanks," He mumbles, using the chair to help him stand upright. The woman steps back, leaving room for Daniel to haul himself to his feet.
Once he's up he wobbles but does his best to focus on making sure his feet move correctly. His headache lessens a bit and he tries to breathe. He manages to stumble through the airport to his gate, dragging himself into the plane and practically collapses into his seat, kicking his bag under the seat in front of him.
He doesn't sleep on the plane, just watches the clouds and the land pass beneath him. He's still feeling weird from earlier so he buys a sandwich and a bottle of water and hopes it never happens again. When he lands he checks his messages. He has a couple from Michael, asking him where he is and if he's landed yet.
Daniel ignores them.
He waits by baggage claim to find his luggage from the carousel and then heads over to collect his snowboards from the desk. There's another boy waiting, that Daniel recognizes, light hair and ruddy cheeks, maybe a year younger than him. Daniel has seen him around, they've briefly talked before when he was in Canada and Europe for other competitions last year. He can't remember his name but he remembers beating him at the Junior World Championships when Daniel was 13. There's a man standing next to him, hooded eyes and a hard face. He must be the boy's father. It's not unusual for parents to fly out to competitions but for someone the boy's age, it is a bit odd. To be fair Daniel's parents have sent out Michelle and Isaac for a 'holiday' to coincide with some of his competitions, for no other reason than to make sure he's still eating and not spiralling, or doing something impulsive.
Daniel's not even paying attention to getting his snowboards back now because the father is leaning down, whispering something into the boy's ear. Daniel tries not to eavesdrop but the man's low and aggressive voice catches his attention. It takes him a second to realise he's not speaking English though he can't place the language.
The boy has his arms crossed over his chest, lips set in a permanent pout. The man is frowning, shaking his head and his large jaw is set firmly, bulging muscle pulling the skin tight. He says one final word before he gives him a firm slap on the back of the head. Daniel startles, looking away quickly. He doesn't want to judge too quickly, because he's definitely earned a smack or two from his parents over the years for doing something particularly rash or stupid, but something about this just seems wrong. Daniel feels sorry for him, he just sort of takes it, glaring at his father with defiance in his gaze.
"Ricciardo?" The man behind the desk calls, bringing out Daniel's snowboard bag. Daniel quickly collects the bag, placing it with his luggage on the trolley and muttering a quiet thank you to the man. He takes one last look at the boy and his father before wheeling his luggage outside.
It's much colder than he thought it would be and he shivers involuntarily. There are piles of snow scattered everywhere and it must have snowed a lot because they haven't had time to shovel it properly. Daniel stops the trolley, pulling out his phone. He doesn't know who's picking him up, maybe someone employed by his sponsors, or Michael, or one of the coaches he's been training under, probably Sebastian or Toto. He hopes it's not Michael.
Just as he's about to search up a number, someone calls out to him. He can tell immediately by the accent that it's Seb. Daniel feels a rush of something akin to relief as he turns to meet the other man. Daniel picks up his bags and shuffles through the slush of the pickup area. He loads his luggage into the 4WD that Sebastian has waiting and climbs into the passenger seat.
"Daniel," Sebastian grins and greets him with a casual pat on the back before pulling him into an awkward, seat-belt restricted hug.
Seb dials up the heater, adjusting the vents in front of Daniel as he pulls away from the curb. "How are you?" He asks, gentle, that tone of voice that Daniel hates more than anything. He sees it coming all the way from Australia, in emails that always were equally concerned and cautious. "We are here if you need us," they always said. His parents had done the same thing. That kind voice laced with trepidation. That sympathy.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm good, really. Just a bit...a bit tired right now," he says and the man hums in agreement.
"It's a long trip."
Daniel shrugs, looking out the window. Sebastian doesn't push him. That's one of the things he likes about him. If Sebastian knows he doesn't want to talk he doesn't pursue the conversation. He's already had enough of explaining to his therapist, and to his parents and sister and people who called to 'check in on him' that he's just tired. He doesn't want to spend his time talking about anything other than snowboarding.
He doesn't realise he's gone somewhere until Sebastian speaks, nudging him. "Have a sleep," he says. "It’ll take a while with all this ice." Daniel blinks, trying to clear his foggy vision. He feels weird and when the fuck did it get so cold? Sebastian reaches across and pulls something from the backseat. Daniel closes his eyes as Seb throws a blanket over his lap.
When Daniel's eyes snap open next, Seb is pulling up into the little car park next to the lodge, where there are not a lot of street lights and everything around him is dark. Daniel hadn't noticed it was late, that the sky has darkened. Sebastian is parked, already unbuckling himself and opening Daniel’s door. His limbs are heavy and slow, and he doesn't know why or even when he'd fallen asleep. Sebastian has already unloaded his bags by the time he gets his seat belt unbuckled and shrugs the thick blankets off of his lap. He blinks rapidly, shivering. When he can finally move his body he gets out, stomping through the muddy slosh that's on the ground. Daniel really doesn't feel well, now. Everything feels too much and too heavy and too loud and he just wants to sleep. He stumbles over to the front door where Sebastian and all his bags are waiting, the cold seeping through his body. He watches dully as Sebastian unlocks the door and walks in, gesturing to Daniel to follow him.
Daniel does, picking up his snowboard bag and backpack while Sebastian grabs the rest of his luggage. They enter the spacious, luxurious living room and dump everything by the door. Sebastian hangs up their coats and the rest of their things and Daniel can already feel the shivering in his fingers subside. There's a fire burning in the fireplace and the couches are covered with blankets. It's all a bit overwhelming being back when the last time he was here was right after the accident. There are a lot of bad memories here, that Daniel wishes he could wash away.
"Daniel?" He hears someone say, footsteps coming in from hallway. He almost cries at the sight of Lewis coming around the corner.
"Lewis!" He manages to say, stumbling over and folding into him. The hug is returned immediately and Daniel sags into it. He hadn't realised how much he missed Lewis so he just stays there for a few moments, enjoying the older boys warmth.
"Where is everyone?" Daniel asks when he finally pulls away. He's getting pretty tired again now and it hits him he really can't wait for a warm shower and he has to shower because he hasn't showered since he left Perth.
"Charles and Oscar are off somewhere," Lewis says, "Don't know where, didn't ask," He yawns. "George is still training, I think." Daniel nods, not really paying attention, eyes darting around the common room. Lewis punches him in the arm, and the contact brings him back to reality. “Toto was hoping to get everyone together for dinner. If you’re not feeling up to it I’ll tell him.”
Daniel shakes his head, rubbing the heel of his palm over his tired eyes, trying to fight off the urge to lie on the couch and fall asleep. "No I'll come, just need to get changed,"
"Good, good. Go get settled and come find us in a little bit. I’ll text you," Lewis agrees, patting him on the shoulder, giving him a quick smile before leaving Daniel alone with his bags. He hauls them up the stairs pushing open the door to the room he’s been using for the last two seasons.
He almost cries again, as he drops his bags to the floor. Jules' bed is neatly made, and all the photos medals and books Jules used to keep on his shelves have been removed. Maybe they'll let Daniel move some things around, or sleep in one of the other boy's rooms. It's too big and empty for just Daniel. He doesn't want to be on his own all of a sudden, doesn't want to be surrounded by all this space. He shouldn't have left Australia, he isn't ready.
He changes, unpacks a bit and tries not to look at the bed in front of him. His entire body is still aching, and even though he does want to sleep for a week he forces himself out of the bedroom and into the shower. He doesn't wash himself, just stands under the hot stream of water and watches the droplets slip off his tanned skin until he's feeling a bit better. He towels off, brushes his teeth and gets changed into something warm. There's a text on his phone from Lewis telling him they've gone down to the restaurant and to find them whenever he's ready so he grabs his wallet, phone, and a beanie to cover his still-wet curls and heads outside.
The village is lit up with streetlights and they twinkle in the darkness. The sky is clear tonight and the mountains loom above, tall and cold. It's a little past 8 now, and his entire body is just crying out to sleep, but his stomach growls. So he drags himself down towards the restaurants with all the energy he has left.
Daniel just wants to sit down and eat, and for people to not make a fuss but of course they do. Of course they cheer a bit, getting up from their table to greet him and he tries his hardest to show some enthusiasm for it. It feels stupid. Daniel isn't special, it isn't a big deal to be back. It makes him a bit uncomfortable, a bit nervous at the attention. He looks over at Charles, almost expecting him to look annoyed or like he's better than Daniel because he stayed, didn't drop out of the tour and crawl back home because his friend died.
But Charles is beaming at him, dimples just slightly showing on his young face, looking a lot more okay than he had the last time Daniel saw him. It's a little relief because as ashamed as Daniel is to admit it, he didn't contact Charles once. After the accident, in his confusion and grief, he just retreated from the group and cut contact. He didn't look at his messages, kept his mind occupied with swimming and dirtbikes and helping his mum with the groceries and Isaac's school projects. He only started talking to people again when Toto had contacted him about coming back next season which doesn't look great on Daniel's part but he's tried not to think about it too much.
"Bro, you look like such a fuckin’ idiot, I swear." Michael laughs and it takes Daniel a few seconds to realise he's talking about Daniel's new braces. To be fair they look fucked, the metal strained against the crooked lines, but he smiles anyway, showing them off. Michael hugs him and tells him to check his emails for his new workout and diet regime.
"Good to be back, Daniel?" Toto nods at him.
"Good to be back," Daniel forces himself to smile back. He sits down, folding his hands on the table and staring blankly down at his menu. His energy is failing already. He still feels drained, and his ears are faintly ringing and he has to work overtime to focus on what's happening.
Someone nudges his side he looks up to meet Lewis's warm eyes. "You okay man?"
"Yeah," Daniel says, looking back down. "Just...long trip,"
Lewis reaches for his shoulder and squeezes and it's annoying how much Daniel is anticipating that because when was he ever this clingy? He feels too reliant on Lewis's comfort. "Yeah. Are you okay with your room? If it's weird we can switch or I can move in there?"
"Nah," Daniel says quickly. "I'm fine, the room is fine."
Lewis starts talking again, probably still something about Daniel's room, if the cautious glances are anything to go by, but Daniel isn't listening because the kid from the airport is walking in, shoulders hunched up near his ears, looking embarrassed to just be alive. To Daniel's shock, Toto stands up from his seat greeting him with a handshake and a pat on the back.
"Who the fuck is that?" Daniel murmurs to Lewis, momentarily shocked from his exhaustion. Lewis is frowning too, brown eyes tracking the younger boy.
"Toto's been talking about a new recruit. Must be him," Lewis says, shrugging. Daniel nods slowly as he watches this kid awkwardly stand beside the table, looking for a seat. Daniel blinks, scanning around for an empty seat but he's pretty sure George is already moving over to make room. He feels bad, watching him settle into the chair, looking more and more uncomfortable.
"Everyone. This is Max," Toto says still standing up. "He will be joining us for the tour, so I expect all of you will make him feel welcome," he says, gaze sweeping over the boys, lingering for a moment on Daniel, who feels a familiar ache at the back of his throat. There was no fucking way that Max was going to stay at the lodge, sleep in Jules' bed.
"There's no other room left," Charles mutters, clearly having reached the same conclusion. Max seems to shrink more into himself and Daniel is caught in a staring match for a second, when the teen looks up with those piercing blue eyes. "He is staying with his father while we train, that is correct Max?" Toto continues. Max nods stiffly, looking away and Daniel straightens. Good.
"We are fortunate that Max is joining us," Toto continues, "He is exceptionally talented, and I know he will bring a lot to this team." Daniel doesn't miss the way the boy preens at this, a proud smile making its way onto his features before dissolving back to embarrassment when no one else speaks. His eyes scan around the group, resting on Daniel before flicking away. It's sort of hilarious, Daniel thinks, the way he can tell exactly what Max is thinking with just one look. It's right there on the kid's face, his emotions and thoughts all very clear.
When the food comes, Daniel loses any appetite he had and he picks at his burger. Max is weirdly quiet. Well not weirdly, he hasn't exactly talked a lot since Daniel first saw him but everyone else makes easy conversation. Lewis is on his side and a couple of times, knocks his foot against Daniel's to keep him in the conversation. Most of the time it works, but he's not really paying attention because it's rubbing him the wrong way that Toto didn't mention Jules, didn't mention why he had space for Max, made them feel like it was normal, and was just going to move on like that. It's not normal. Seb had almost looked like he wanted to say something earlier but kept quiet.
It doesn't matter, Daniel's going to stick to his plans for this year. No emotional baggage, no drama, no fucking breakdowns, maybe he'll get a few medals to show he's still got it. For the second time tonight, Daniel tries to read Charles' reaction to this all, but apart from looking a bit worn, he's still beaming, laughing like everyone else. Daniel has no idea how he does that, how he's still alright when Daniel feels like he's crumbling under the pressure of having to keep all the emotion packed away. Somehow Charles and his massive pile of grief always seem okay, smiling and happy.
Something in his chest comes loose again and he can feel himself losing grip of himself and Lewis must notice because before he can even stop it from happening, Lewis is asking if he's okay and the rest of the boys are looking at him expectantly. "I feel sick," he says quietly and it's not a lie. He doesn't really know why, but all of a sudden he can feel that awful pressure behind his eyes, when he's about to cry, feels a sickness he can't really describe in his stomach and he wants nothing more than to get up from the table and run and hide in the woods somewhere and sit down and shut up his breathing that's been getting heavier and heavier and he just feels so hot and he can't breathe. Fuck. "Excuse me," Daniel practically stumbles up from the table and pushes his way outside the restaurant, to the cold, night air.
He can't control his breathing, is pulling shaky inhales and it hurts and makes him lightheaded. His eyes are watering and the whole night is blurry and unsteady. A feeling of shame grips him. He hates feeling like this. He hides his face in his arms, bending over, hyperventilating, unable to say anything or control himself. He keeps his head down, just tries to focus on breathing, on not running away or crying. For about the the tenth time today he wishes Jules was here to sort him out. He has no idea how long he spends with his face in his hands, trying not to have a breakdown but eventually, his breathing steadies a bit and the tears in his eyes pass.
He wipes his palms on his pants, focuses on breathing. The fresh cold air is helping clear his head, so he just stands there, swaying unsteadily for a few minutes. Everything in him is telling him to just leave, walk back up to the lodge and go to sleep. Forget everything that happened today and just focus on coming up with excuses for Sebastian and Toto and Michael. He tries to tell himself to stand up and go back inside, finish the rest of his night when he hears the door open and close and the quick footsteps crunching in the snow. Before he even looks up, he knows it's Max standing awkwardly next to him, looking up at the sky, "Are you okay?" he asks.
"Yeah," Daniel croaks out, voice a little raw from his efforts not to cry. "All good."
Max blinks at him. "You do not seem okay,"
"I'm fine," Daniel shakes his head. "You can go back inside."
"If you are not good, then..."
"Seriously, I'm okay."
"It is just you seemed upset, and no one followed you."
"Why would they do that?" Daniel chuckles, the sound hollow.
Max gives a small shrug. "Because they are your friends…" Daniel is so used to everyone walking on eggshells, making a thing out of this but Max just seems to stare up at him with those blue eyes and then back at the door, like it was a perfectly reasonable thing for Daniel's friends to do. It probably is, they just know that Daniel would rather deal with it himself. "We do not know each other, I know, so maybe it is strange for me to ask-" Max is blushing furiously, watching for Daniel's reaction. His shoulders are so tense, Daniel would have assumed the teen was angry if he didn't know better, would have said he was going to kick off or something but he can tell that his limbs are tense because he's nervous. "Maybe you would like to talk about why you are upset," he mumbles quickly.
Daniel cracks a weak smile. "You really gonna ask me to pour my heart out, mate?"
Max turns red, embarrassed at the rejection. It's cute; his little huffy pout. "Forget it," he says and turns.
"Wait, Max."
Max turns back around, mouth small and eyes downcast, like he's expecting Daniel to make fun of him, or yell at him. Daniel sighs, because honestly, he's not mad that Max has asked he just doesn't know how to say anything. So he shakes his head, "Just a shit day, I guess. Miss my mate." Daniel shrugs, focusing on the fresh feeling of cold air when he exhales. That and the numbness of his fingers are the only things that's keeping him calm right now. He can tell by Max's reaction that he has no idea about Jules. Part of him thinks that Max is still waiting for him to elaborate.
"You are sad?" Max deduces after a few moments and Daniel can't help but smile a little because the kid is so bloody earnest. Daniel swallows because he doesn't like people feeling sorry for him and he doesn't want Max to pity him. Max is fidgeting, worrying at his sleeves, hands unsure where to go.
Daniel shrugs. "I'm a bit weird. Since him. Is all." he says, watching Max look down at his feet, a little unsure of what to say. Daniel wonders, briefly what Max thought he was going to accomplish out here. He'd followed him out and asked what was wrong and Daniel hadn't given him much, yet, Max is still here. Daniel still feels weird and melancholic and like he can't move, now stuck facing Max whose face is careful, gentle. "Your friend, is he okay?" He asks quietly, treading lightly. Daniel scoffs because it's a really stupid thing to ask and he suddenly feels very irritated.
" Yeah well, he's dead." Daniel spits back, his voice sounding harsh and mean. "Why the fuck else do you think he'd be not here?" Max visibly recoils at his outburst, takes a tentative step back, jaw clenching tightly. Daniel doesn't really know where that came from and in his head, it's gone silent. Max is staring at him, plump lips pressed firmly shut, eyes wide and blinking like he's not sure how to proceed and Daniel feels a fresh wave of self-hatred crash into him.
Max frowns suddenly, looking down. "No, I mean-" he says haltingly, before shrugging again and stuffing his hand into his pockets. "Never mind then." He walks back inside and Daniel finds that it tugs at his chest. Frowning, he follows and is suddenly hit by this ridiculous sense of sadness. He didn't think he'd care if he upset Max of all people, Max who he's known for all of 10 minutes.
His fingers clutch at the chain of his gold necklace, focusing on the little ridges digging into his finger pads. His mind dizzily conjures up this image. The clench of Max's jaw and how his lips pulled into his mouth when Daniel had called him 'mate'.
No one says anything when Daniel retakes his seat, just continue with their own conversations, and Daniel picks at the rest of his fries. He lets his gaze drift occasionally in the direction of Max. It is so stupid, Daniel thinks, watching that baby roundness of the boys cheeks, pink and soft from the cold, his wide expressive eyes that seem to be trying to catch Daniel's every five seconds. It's almost funny really how despite Max's prickly exterior, he wants so badly to be liked, how he fidgets, unable to keep himself still, fingers twisting around and stroking his forearms, his long neck stretching, as he attempts to pay attention and engage with the group. He is constantly turning towards everyone with this hopeful little spark and Daniel doesn't need to watch closely to see his smile, all small and shy and eyes crescented, when someone directs a story at him. Max is awkward and a little pathetic but in a way that makes Daniel want to actually keep looking at him.
Daniel has a haze around his head by the time they finish dinner, body humming from a few too many drinks and feeling hazy and muted like there is cotton lining his ears. His mood is shifting. From feeling fragile and on edge to a blissful detachment where he doesn't really care too much about anything and slips back into enjoying himself. Lewis and him are the last back to the lodge because Lewis insists they have to walk Max home first. It's the nice thing to do, Daniel supposes. Daniel's mind is too far gone, too detached for him to think about how strange it is that Max doesn't get to stay at the lodge with them. If he asks, he doesn't remember.
On the walk back, Lewis has an arm slung around his shoulder, half walking, half dragging Daniel up to the lodge. His voice is warm and rough and his grip is too. Daniel leans against him and says something that makes him laugh, he feels Lewis rumble right against his shoulder. His eyes slip shut for a minute and he sways heavily against Lewis, who catches him. He feels sleepy and soft and he blinks back at Lewis, who gives him an odd look. "Act a bit more sober for Toto, okay?" Lewis murmurs in Daniel's ear. "He's not happy,"
His focus is brought back by the feeling of fingertips digging slightly into his forearm. Daniel nods and straightens as Lewis unlocks the door. It's only Toto, Seb, and Michael in the room and they all turn to look at them as they walk in. Lewis gives him a pat on the back and Daniel takes it as his cue to walk up the stairs to bed.
"Daniel," he hears Toto say before he can get too far. He turns around, trying his best to look and sound like he's not drunk at all, "Yeah?"
"I want to have a word with you tomorrow," he says firmly. "I would have done it now but you have had a long day, I imagine. We will talk tomorrow," he nods.
"What about?" Daniel asks, alcohol dulling his senses.
"I will let you go to bed, we'll talk tomorrow," Toto repeats firmly.
Daniel opens his mouth to speak again, frowning.
"Go to bed Daniel," It's gentle this time, uncharacteristic of Toto but Daniel sees a genuine worry there, creased between his brow and knows Toto isn't going to say anything else tonight. "Yeah, sure," Daniel murmurs, trying to disguise his frustration, and heads up to his room.
Daniel curls up under his bed covers, feeling oddly hollow, listlessly brushing his fingers up and down the chain around his neck. There's an unsettling dizziness in his head and he pulls the covers over himself until he's in complete darkness and listens to the quiet for a while. He brushes his fingers over the necklace again and presses the necklace into his hand. It's a little painful, the pressure of the clasp against his hand but Daniel just holds it tighter. His eyes are burning a little again so he presses his head into the pillow a little more, curls his legs up and tries to ignore the little pull and ache in his chest.