About a year and a half after the media blitz over the break-up, I'd already released my record and gone on tour to support it. The record hadn't done nearly as well as either Savage record, but I didn't care. Particularly since it had done very well in Australia, where Aneiki was still struggling. I'm not normally this petty, but I won't lie and say it didn't give me at least an iota of satisfaction.

I was now officially on a personal break, choosing to spend my time in undisclosed locations. It was during this downtime that once again Savage Garden was nominated and eventually won an APRA for song most played internationally. I of course, yet again, did not attend. Had I gone though, I'm sure it would have had a less potent effect on the reunion rumour mill than the events that did take place.

It was ironic really. Daniel answers innocent questions at the post-award press conference, and suddenly there are articles everywhere suggesting that he and I were getting back together. Ironic because it was the media that inherently broke us up the first time, and now they were trying to put us back together. Ironic because Daniel was now the victim of the deliberately antagonizing media angles instead of me. It was also a bit disconcerting…because I couldn't help but wonder if this latter irony was intended. Daniel can be a cunning bastard when he feels like it.

I ignored the phone for a few days as the news spread and twisted like wildfire in Oz. Thankfully no one State-side cared, not even the record company. I collected every article and video clip on the matter just the same. It was amusing actually; there I was cutting newspaper clippings like any other fan, because it wasn't every day that Daniel spoke to the media, especially about us. With each article though, came a barrage of internal questions…was he doing this intentionally?

"We both know it's there and I'm sure we'll both experiment with it again down the track, it's just a matter of time and what to do next." I couldn't help but wonder if this was a challenge of some sort. After a while, my paranoia began running my nerves ragged.

"He and I have an amazing, wonderful relationship in the sense that it's a connection that neither of us can quite put our finger on it." Suddenly, a comment like this came across with an image of Daniel's face smirking knowingly.

Why was he saying things like this now, after all this time? He was acting as if nothing had changed. It occurred to me that maybe for him, it hadn't, it's not as if we'd ever talked about my feelings on the matter. I'd forgotten how sensitive and real he could be.

It was the last article Tracey faxed me that finally pushed me to do something rather than hide out in San Francisco. "I'd never say never. Perhaps I wouldn't have actually confirmed a definite split or break-up. I believe that when two people have some form of connection they should nurture it the best way they can, in the circumstances that are given to them." This was as inflaming as Daniel could ever get and apparently I'd also forgotten how eloquent he could be when he wanted.

So I dropped everything and took the next flight to Australia. I know, that's crazy, but I'm still a fucking popstar and I can afford it. I couldn't, on the other hand, afford to let this drive me mental. I didn't bother letting my family or anyone else know, not even Leonie. I considered calling Daniel, but I had a feeling either he or I would chicken out. So I went straight to his house on a whim, proud of my bravery and running completely on stubbornness and the need to know (the flight had been gruelling).

But as the taxi pulled up in front of his house some time in the mid-evening, I was suddenly scared. Because I knew Kathleen and Daniel were still together…and if there was one thing I couldn't bear right then, it was seeing them together. But then I remembered that Kathleen still did that Hi-5 gig in Sydney, and I was at least partially hopeful that she wouldn't be visiting Daniel just now, in the middle of the filming season.

More importantly though, I was terrified because I didn't have a clue as to what I'd say. That was unfortunately a terror I couldn't assuage, still I had to know, so I walked through his gate and strode up, with all sorts of confidence I didn't really have, to ring his doorbell.

When he opened the door, I wasn't ready for it. I wasn't ready to look at him and be immediately drawn to the familiar: wild dirty blonde hair, lean slightly muscled frame, lips already parted into the beginnings of a smile, and that which I'd hungered for most on the loneliest days of my solo career…the bright sparkle in his suddenly widening smoky eyes. For a second there was a hush, as if sound itself were sucked into the breath Daniel took abruptly. The pencil that he'd been worrying between his teeth dropped soundlessly to the floor.

As my eyes drifted after it, they were caught on the loose T-shirt barely touching his torso and the unlaced trackies. His body definition had softened ever so slightly (which was to be expected), but not so much as to be unattractive. If anything, I bemoaned that it just made him look more fuckable. Bare feet, I filed away, and then unwillingly bit my lip when I saw him fidget with and then re-tie his sweatpant laces. He was older, more sunkissed, his body shape changed enough that I wanted to go back to school to learn it over again.

And then the most familiar thing of all…his laughter. Unexpected, completely guileless and happy. "Darren!" He shouted it at me as if I were his mate long-thought-dead. Maybe I was. He snatched up my arm and pulled me into the house. This was Daniel's way; he could never simply invite a person in. They knew they were welcome by his touch, and conversely they knew they weren't welcome by the lack thereof. I supposed this was a good sign.

I stuttered responses to his initial mundane questions about my life, my family, America, but with each stutter, the knowing look in Daniel's eyes deepened. Finally he asked a question that I knew would lead down a path I was not yet prepared for.

"How's the diva?" Casually, as if he hadn't once fucked me against the wall we were just passing, on our way to his home studio.

"I…you know, I've never really been one." I felt my backbone returning; Daniel had no concept of just how arrogant I could be.

"Sure fooled everyone else." He gave me a sidelong glance that I would analyze now as both teasing and challenging. He gestured me into the studio but I immediately turned to face him as soon as I'd entered. I would not be vulnerable, not now. Steeling myself to speak, I was not expecting his next words.

"…I used to keep that in check for you, remember?" My eyes jerked up to his, and my shock was mirrored by amused invitation. He closed in on me, forcing me to nervously notice that his studio had been vastly re-furnished. We were in what could be called a viewer's lounge, cut off from the studio controls as well as the recording booth itself. It was filled with leather armchairs and there was even a daybed, although I couldn't imagine for what purpose. Suddenly I was half-lying on said daybed, and I considered that I'd just been shoved back sprawling onto it.

Feeling like an idiot, I gaped up at him as he straddled me, his pores exhaling insinuation complete with matching half-lidded eyes. "Is that what you're here for?" The low sexy murmur that no one save his lovers were allowed to hear. This I know for a fact; I won't go into further detail than that. I pushed ineffectually at his chest. Not that he was hard to move, it was more that I didn't really want to move him. So it probably came across as a batting by the paw of an uncertain kitten. Still, Daniel looked down at my hand slowly, then pinned me with unvoiced green questions.

"This is new."

"Everything is new, it's been 2 years! This…is not why I'm here. As irresistible as you are." It was intended to come across in a caustic manner, but the weak tone took about 99% of that intention to dust. Still it seemed to have an impression on Daniel, who raised a brow in knowing good humour. He spilt off my lap and lounged back, braced on his arms.

"What's going on, mate?"


~Chapter Six

~ This is the thing about Daniel. You'll notice that not once until this point did he ask what I was doing in Australia, so far from my adopted home. Not once did he complain or exclaim about my sudden appearance or my lack of warning. He simply welcomed me blithely as if completely clueless. I would have assumed he genuinely was, except that he straight out asked me what was going on. Daniel never does this; he's always content to wait until I say whatever it is I need to say.

So of course I lost my temper. "Don't fuck with me, Daniel! You bloody well know what's going on!" His eyes widened and he sat up. Oddly enough, despite our previously close relationship, it occurs to me now that I must have shocked him with my outburst. He recovered quickly enough to roll his eyes at me before languidly pulling himself up and disappearing into the control booth. He fiddled with a few knobs and buttons, ignoring my angry bark of "Daniel!"

When music streamed through the speakers in the viewing room, I wouldn't allow myself to focus on how impressed I was by the studio's design, nor to feel any excitement over listening to Daniel's unfinished musical muse. I jumped up and ran towards the booth even as Daniel shut the door and put on his headphones. I slammed a hand against the soundproof glass and shouted in vain, "I didn't fly over 10,000 fucking kilometres to be ignored, you prick!"

He wouldn't even look up at me. I slammed my fist against the glass this time. In an abrupt movement, Daniel took off the headphones and came over to calmly open the door. His eyes had gone slate-coloured, which I knew meant he was unhappy. Well, good.

"What do you want me to do, Darren? I meant every word I said. It doesn't mean it will happen. I know. I get that." He gave me a muted look that almost managed to make me feel guilty about my self-righteous anger. Except that he didn't have a fucking right to make me feel anything! So I shoved him slightly backwards into the sound booth and prowled closer.

"Where the hell do you get off guilt-tripping me for this? You know why it won't happen! I did you a favour letting you go in the first place, while you were being all indecisive about it!" I shoved him again, though I received no satisfaction, since he just took it and watched me blandly. "And what do I fucking get for it! You sabotaging me, sabotaging my career! You have been since the beginning of all this! Why can't you just let it die, just let Savage die!"

When I went to shove him for a third time, he grabbed my wrists and I belatedly noticed that his eyes had narrowed with warning. I made a snarling noise and yanked my arms free, but despite my show of aggression, Daniel was the one prowling nearer this time. And I considered too late that backing up until my back knocked into the door, propelling it to slam shut…well it wasn't the best idea I'd had. So there I was in the not-quite-spacious sound booth, my back against the door and my fingers clawing into it, wondering when Daniel had gone back to wearing that edge in his eyes.

"Well one thing's for sure, mate, you're still a bloody selfish wanker," he murmured in a low conversational tone, but I could see his teeth were clenched just so. "I shouldn't have let you pansy off scot-free after the break-up shite. I thought it was for the best, but you've gone and turned into a complete arse instead of only half of one."

I was about to unleash some truly indignant wrath upon him, when he saw fit to press his lean body against me, chest for chest, thigh for thigh. Then he hissed in my ear, "And we both know there's only one cure for that, don't we."

I choked. And I'm sure I went cross-eyed for a bit, because I did not notice Daniel's hands moving until they were under my shirt. Daniel's well versed in the art of seduction, something I hadn't forgotten, but would never be apt to fight against. I hiccupped and felt panic tingeing my peripheral vision black, until Daniel's arms tightened and he soothed, "Easy…" Then he kissed me.

It wasn't something out of a torrid romance novel. It wasn't that sweet either. It wasn't inviting or gentle or searching. It simply was. The kind of kiss that scorns "it was only a matter of time, so what the fuck took you so long." The kind of kiss that says "I know you need this, but I won't rub it in." The kind of kiss that warns "don't even think about leaving again." It frustrated me and made me angry again…I hated not being in control.

I managed to put up a warding hand between us, and I bit out, "This does not mean Savage is back together."

Daniel's mouth twitched, fighting off a smile. I knew I must have looked ridiculous, mouth glistening and swollen and eyes flashing. He agreed a little too easily, "No it doesn't." Then he planted a swift biting kiss on my already brutalized mouth.

I made a growling noise in warning and insisted pointedly, "It doesn't mean Savage will ever be back together again either!"

He nodded gamely, eyes sparkling again, "Of course not." Another kiss. Well fuck it, I thought, why the hell should I hold back when he didn't seem to want to! Mostly secure in the fact that it wasn't going to end up as a permanent control fixture again, I finally just kissed him back. I think I must have shocked him again, because I had him swiftly up on the slanted soundboard, on the smoothest section I could find, my hands already at the drawstrings before either of us needed a breath.

Between bites that passed for kisses, tongues that nearly dried entirely in their feverish explorations, and random snatches of wanting, I stopped abruptly and found myself on the precipice of something that was completely new.

I couldn't voice my confusion for fear that the moment would be gone, but Daniel understood. And in the disarray of our clothing, pooled and ripped at various stages, he simply watched me with a devilishly lopsided smile. And offered in a low voice, "It is my sound booth, after all." Only the slight shiver in his words betrayed him and I sucked in a sharp breath of knowledge. This was new to him too…entirely new.

I probably had the most besotted expression on my face, because he laughed and I retaliated the only way I could. I sucked him off until he groaned my name. And before he'd even had a breath of the pleasure, I had him braced against the switches, his fingers clutching them. But even then, he was laughing. Making deep sexy noises intermittently, yes, but laughing breathlessly and freely.

So I dragged him out of the sex-marked booth and made love to him on the daybed. He stopped laughing, but I doubt he noticed the real difference. To him, it was probably just slower, easier, gentler. We lay still, not from exhaustion, but because I only carried two condoms with me at any given time and Daniel didn't feel like getting more. And there was no way in fuck we were going to the bed he and Kathleen shared. Which brings me to the final conversation…or should I say confrontation.

See, I was very confused. Eventually we just fell asleep, but when I woke I was in the guest room. Daniel was gone but there was a note next to my head which said that he'd gone to a new house site. Daniel was apparently building houses as a hobby. He'd left directions and keys to his SUV. He invited me to come over and help. I wondered why he hadn't woken me but that was the least insistent of my internal questions. So I showered, got dressed and attempted to find the site.

After getting lost twice thanks to Daniel's bizarre handwriting, I arrived at an utterly new neighbourhood. Cranky, I found a spot to park that was sufficiently away from all the loud machinery and potential danger (I'd seen enough movies about cranes dropping things on expensive cars, thank you very much). Asking around for Daniel, I met dead end after dead end, and I began to wonder if I'd been led on a wild goose chase. Until the goose strode out of a construction trailer with blueprints in his hands. He spotted me, beamed in delight and waved me in.

I'd barely had time to overcome the ringing in my ears thanks to all the drills and external machinery when Daniel forced me to put on a hard hat and ear coverings. He pointed to rubber boots and eye goggles but I rolled my eyes and explained I just wanted to talk to him, that I wasn't there to help. His face fell slightly, and it occurred to me that all this had been an evasion of sorts. I was glad for my ornery state of mind; it enabled me to be much more forthright, though no less nervous.

A silence fell as Daniel waited for me to begin the discussion. So I stiltedly asked him about Kathleen. Thankfully, he didn't pretend to misunderstand. A small smile accompanied a careless, "This isn't the same as that. Kathleen knows about this and she's ok with it. She always has been, we've talked about it." I didn't know what was worse…that he was shrugging off whatever this was, or that he'd spoken to Kathleen about us but never spoken to me about her.

I think it was a tossup, and I must have looked quite distressed in my disbelief and pain, because Daniel's eyes relaxed a bit and he reassured quickly, "Darren, don't worry so much! I'm not going to cramp your style, there won't be a jealous girlfriend knocking your door down. She loves me, she gets this, what we have."

I snarled before I could contain it, my eyes tearing up as I finally broke, "And what the fuck do we have, Daniel? What the fuck have we ever had! Goddamnit, you bastard…you can go fuck your little faghag whore, spread her legs, I don't give a damn."


~Chapter Seven~

Upon uttering those ugly words, I flung the ear coverings off and sprinted out of the trailer. I couldn't take his blind lack of concern, not now. I heard him calling my name in angry confusion, but I just ran across the site, barely noticing the danger signs and the other site workers yelling for me to stop. They were all with him anyway; no one would understand that I didn't ask for any of this.

I stumbled near some large poles and deep exposed gaps in the ground, and tears blinded me, forcing me to slow down. That's when I heard the panting from behind and that voice I'd grown to love and hate like my own. He called out to me and disjointedly I thought he sounded a bit desperate, but of course he would; I was embarrassing the hell out of him. Shouting hoarse profanities at him, I flung off my hard hat at him, slowing him sufficiently down that I could make my escape weaving through piles of dirt.

As I tripped again near one of the holes, my arm went out to try and grasp one of the fences. Just as I did that, I thought I saw motion from the corner of my eye. I turned, and as if in slow motion, I saw Daniel, his face ashen, eyes wide with some unnamed emotion, his arm raised. He threw a large chunk of lumber directly at me. I never did get a hold of that fence, and as I fell I thought sadly that he must hate me for what I said about her. Why else would he--.

And that was it. I ended up at this buggery of a hospital. In a way I welcomed the blackness, it was easier than the existence akin to watching soundless television. I was fairly apathetic, and before you ask, I don't hate Daniel for what he did. I doubt he intended this and even if he did, it doesn't matter. I'll forgive him anything. My family on the other hand…

I guess the thing that torments me the most? I'm watching as Tracey coldly ignores him, as Leonie heatedly complains to the nurses that he just shouldn't be allowed here. I'm watching, and I'm glad that when the paramedics revived me in the ambulance for that one moment, that I had the presence of mind to make sure someone knew he had to be near me, that they had to let him come. I never actually thought he would, I thought he'd avoid it from guilt or maybe because he was still angry.

But he comes every day. Silently takes the insults and the hurtful words I know Leonie is capable of. Silently takes my father's frigid dismissal and my mother's tears. But Tracey who was his staunchest ally, even she… God, they've finally left him alone with me. I watch just him now. The silence is the worst at these moments, because it's real. He never says anything, not even I'm sorry. I would know if he did, I'm starting to get better at lip reading. He just sits there, looking haggard and unshaven and bleak. The sparkle completely gone, shattered.

It makes me hurt; it makes my spirit feel the pull of wherever it is we go from here.

Day after day of this, Daniel visiting at all hours, brooding, I wonder how long he'll be able to keep it up. I wonder where his family is, why his mother hasn't made him at least eat something, because he's becoming skeletal faster than I am. I wonder where she is. Today, I get my answer.

He's sitting there staring at his hands, unable to look at me cleanly and it's frustrating because even if he did look at me, our eyes wouldn't meet. I feel her at the door, and she timidly enters, all petite and beautiful glowing skin. Exotic eyes and sweet, sweet mouth pressed into a pert look of grief. How convincing. She touches his shoulder and he doesn't even move, which gratifies me only until I notice that he's trembling now.

Then she's doing what I've wanted to since he started coming in; holding him, telling him it's not his fault, that everything will be alright. Or rather…I can only assume that's what she's saying. I'm not sure I want to actually know. I want to die more in this moment, than I have in all of this. But then she does something peculiar.

She strokes his hair, picks up his hand in hers and brings it closer to mine, forcing our hands to clasp one another. She does this slowly and his frame is shivering by the end of it. But when his fingers curl around mine, I wish to God I could feel them. She strokes his hair again, her eyes milky with love and concern. She says something carefully, regret written all over her face, then kisses him softly on the cheek and departs, I can only assume temporarily. Daniel's left staring at our hands.

Her absence, I realize, is like the scent of spring flowers fading, though I can't smell anything. It's tragic yet expected. That's when it occurs to me. Suddenly, I wonder if maybe, maybe I had misunderstood it all. Having had all the time I've had, perhaps in my diligent repetition, I've missed some vital point.

So I think about it. About Daniel and Michelle. And Daniel and Kathleen, especially just now. The timing of everything. How Daniel swears he never keeps anyone around that he doesn't need. His words in the articles. What he gave me so incredibly the night before this fiasco happened. The inherent affection shining in his eyes, and not just all the times we've made love, because I can finally admit it wasn't always just fucking just because Daniel doesn't love me the way I love him. It never meant he didn't love me at all, and though I have no proof, though it goes against my very pessimistic, untrusting nature, I know it now. Daniel does love me, in his own way.

And I hurt him. I know because he's broken now; he's finally crying, and being incorporeal as I am, I can feel the waves of his grief and pain. Pain that isn't new, but one I've never noticed or maybe never wanted to. I want to die faster, but that's pointless now because I know what Kathleen said to him. And it's too late to change anything, far too late. I lost my opportunity long ago; I lost the right to ask Daniel about things I've wanted to ask about but never had the guts to.

I see the way defeat hangs heavily on his shoulders. I wish that I could tell him that it isn't his fault that I fell in love with him. That I'm sorry for causing the ancient pain reflecting in his eyes. But suddenly my sight is gone, and I can't see about my body, only the fading light. And then familiar blackness…and I can feel that pull again, and I know…

It's finally time.

So I embrace it all, the pain, the happiness, the love. I cling to an image of Daniel, eyes sparkling and laughter resonating deeply, as I feel the change overtake me and my last thought is that I just wish I could hear the words that Daniel is finally speaking, their tearful vibrations taunting me…

"--I love you, Darren…"

What?

"Don't do this…please…I'm sorry. We never talked about it, but I'm sorry. I thought Kathleen… I was so angry, I didn't know what to. Then you left, and it hurt like fuck and I didn't tell you. But you can't just…!" The words are incoherent as the anguish and the tears overpower his cracking, hushed voice. And all that I understand is that Daniel's lost and I rail at the unfairness, because I can't just leave him like that!

Then suddenly the world rushes back, the pain of my body, the sounds of the monitor beeping, the breath that I painfully gasp. My true sight blurring as I open my eyes for the first time in a month.

Oh.

It finally occurs to me what was pulling at my spirit all this time.

"…I…love you…too…" I manage to choke out, vitals spiralling, then I promptly black out from the influx of pain. But not before catching his head jerk up and not before seeing the shock and tiny hope radiating in his beautiful eyes. I think I might be smiling. But I can't see anymore, and my dreams have become my reality so quickly that I think I must have died after all.


~Chapter Eight~

It's months later, and I'm free of that blasted institute. I'm contemplating moving back to Australia permanently for a while. My family's managed to forgive Daniel, particularly since Kathleen eventually lost her temper at their behaviour and told them the truth of what happened. Well not that truth, they're not quite ready for that yet, but about the accident.

In retrospect, I had no way of knowing what the poles were for, nor that in the ground lay exposed electrical wiring. I had no concept that the signs I'd been passing and ignoring, that all the shouts, that Daniel's chase had all been to try and protect me. That the fence I had invariably reached for had been electrically conductive and would have shot tens of thousands of volts through me. If Daniel hadn't put me in a coma first. I told him I never held it against him, even when I was sure I was going to die, but I don't think he believed me.

Savage Garden hasn't reunited, nor will it any time soon. I tell Daniel this every night, defiantly. He just laughs and promises to let me listen to the new song he's working on. I never did tell him everything, but he doesn't seem to mind, and frankly I'm not sure it's important anymore. So it's ok that he doesn't know this story, because he already knows the way it will end. The way all stories do, in death...or in love.

~finis~
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