uh. After otherhawk and InSilva wrote these... immense, perfect, beautiful pieces - "DannyandRusty" and "A sort of scrapbook", I had to complete this one. And I'm well aware that it's kind-of... well. See for yourself.

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Yet.

Genre: Tragedy/Angst/Romance/Friendship/Drama

Truth

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There were other ways and different decisions. But it wasn't about choice anymore, it was about truth and mind over matter. Because love was one thing but this was another. And it was infinite and agreed on and there had been moments to choose and they had always had time on their side.

They had seen the signs, although it had taken Danny a few years. But one evening Tess had hid behind the smile and Rusty hadn't and he had made a decision and then he had kissed her.

Because he had always loved her and Rusty would always stay, no matter what, and she wouldn't.

And when he had seen the evidences of distraction and denial in the empty mini bar and in the socks and smells of endless bodies after coming back from the Niagara Falls, he had tried to say it – say something – but Rusty had smiled and told him about the dealership in Phoenix and their bank accounts.

When Tess had taken him to watch 'Brokeback Mountain', he had feigned a sick stomach as soon as the end credits had started and spent ten minutes on the toilet, calling the one person he didn't have to talk to to be understood.

Rusty had never asked. Part of him knew the answer and the other part didn't want to hear. Because understanding would change everything and for once he didn't want to understand.

Of course people saw things and exchanged glances and theories and sometimes both, but they never wrote it out. Basher had talked about magnetism and Rusty had shifted his weight and watched Danny adjust.

Isabel hadn't argued. She had seen the touch of fingers against hackles and she had left the restaurant, packed her things, written a note which had said 'Good luck and good bye'. And it had hurt because Rusty had never believed in luck.

Redheads and tanned skin, three-day beards and stewardesses had stayed for a few hours, a few nights, and one morning he had woken up before sunrise and hadn't even cared about the creased shirt. Fleeing, he had reached the car, the wind had cut through his hair, he had pulled up next to the white picket fence and seen them kiss in the kitchen.

Two weeks later, Danny had been standing in the hallway and still hadn't said it, but his hands had been shaking when he had reached out and he had held the gaze and the door had closed and it had been kisses and silent pleas and he had never felt so sure of something before.

He had felt like he would disappear any moment.

Danny had often asked Rusty's forgiveness and Rusty had always only smiled and shaken his head and as long as Danny could remember he had never lied about something important to him.