The Start of Things
Title: The Start of Things
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own them...or Daniel's house. Imitation is the highest
form of compliment.
Notes: This is more a tribute to those "dark secret" fics that I used to read
and love and can't seem to find enough of anymore than it is anything worth a
plot. Yeah. It's fluff.
"And most my memories
Have escaped me
Or confused themselves with dreams
If heaven's all we want it to be
Send your prayers to me care of 1983"
John Mayer
"83"
The Start of Things
Home was a one story rural with green shutters and a doorbell that played the
first three measures of his mum's favorite classical tune. His brother had
rigged it that way when Daniel was starting fifth grade. Oliver had a knack
for mechanical things the way Daniel did for the guitar. Things like that
came naturally to them.
Three years prior, Oli and he had set up the swing in the backyard. It was a
board with two holes drilled in the sides for rope to be strung through, and
Daniel had scurried up the ancient tree to tie the rope in a secure backward
square knot (which his father had taught him) while Oli stood below and told
him up on the right or down on the left so that the swing would hang evenly.
Daniel was ferociously protective of his backyard, even after his parents
shipped away their children to university and the real world beyond. It was
a large yard, disappearing into hidden brush and a ring of trees that served
as a barrier between his house and his backdoor neighbor. The ring of trees
was claimed in the name of Daniel Jones, explorer extraordinaire, at the age
of eleven. He had carved his secret code name, "Night Hawk," into the base
of one of the trees in the ring.
Only the people who knew the code could come in, except for his mum with
lemonade or brownies.
Leaning against the decorative fence that separated the front yard from the
back, Daniel surveyed his domain and noticed how much smaller the area was
now that he was so much older. Back in 1983, nothing had stopped him from
his dreams. Firefighter. Astronaut. When he was feeling ambitious,
sometimes a lacrosse player or a safari leader.
Or a rock star.
He smiled and watched the shadows play across the circle of trees, the
dappled grass beckoning him with a cool breeze and damp soil just waiting for
toes to squeeze themselves in.
No one knew he was home but his parents. Daniel had agreed to watch the
house and pick up the mail once a week while they were gone on their tour of
Ireland, but Daniel hadn't the energy to round up his usual crew of
roustabouts. Hiding was easier. He stuffed his hands in his stonewashed
Levis and kicked off his shoes, letting his toes curl into the lawn.
Yes....this was what he had been missing.
He stepped away from the fence and moved into the shadow of the house, deeper
into the darkest jungle of the back yard, towards the swing. Daniel watched
his feet move, crushing tiny blades of grass and softer patches of weeds.
He'd have to cut it in a few days, but today was too nice to waste pushing
around a mower. He looked up and smiled at that thought, and then halted
dead in the shadow of the great tree.
"Darren," he wooshed, and the body on the swing looked up at him.
"Surprise?" Darren offered, pushing off gently on the swing and moving with
the momentum.
"Mum told me you'd be by, but I thought she meant tomorrow. Maybe Saturday,"
Daniel said, sliding down the trunk of the tree to sit with his arms on his
knees. Darren hadn't really startled him...but seeing anyone in the swing
was enough to catch his breath. He remembered thinking that he could fly
right out of the yard if he could just go high enough.
"I used to worry about flipping over the bar. When you get that jumpy
feeling when you go too high," Darren mused, looking up at where the ropes
were tied to the tree. They had never rotted, not after all these years, up
where they were tied. But the wooden board was looking worse for the wear
after so many rainy seasons.
"How've you been, Darren?" Daniel asked, fishing at the base of the tree for
a blade of grass fat enough to make a whistle out of.
Darren swung a little higher, and the tree creaked happily. "Good, Dan.
I've been good. You?"
"I keep busy," Daniel said, pawing through more grass. "Can't complain."
"But you like to." Creak.
"Immensely." Creak. "I used to watch the clouds from here." He looked up,
and there was a perfect cut in the tree limbs to see right up to the clear
blue winter sky.
Creak. "I remember," Darren replied, dragging his feet to slow his flight.
"I remember teaching you the constellations."
Daniel laughed at the game. They hadn't played in years, not since they'd
last been back at the Jones residence. "I remember making you laugh so hard,
you blew red JELL-O out your nose and thought you had a nose bleed."
"I remember burying that raccoon." They both looked mournfully toward the
circle of trees, where the large boulder they had rolled over the raccoon's
grave still sat, patiently, as if for a higher purpose. The swing slowed and
Darren stood up, looking down as if contemplating whether to join his friend
or allow their game to continue.
"I remember..." Daniel quested for something they hadn't used in the past.
"Digging for buried treasure."
"I remember writing lyrics-"
"AWFUL lyrics," Daniel interjected.
"Hey!" Darren protested. "That's not how we play!"
"Well...they were..." Daniel muttered as he finally found the proper blade
of grass. He fitted it between his thumbs and blew, and a honking noise
filled the air.
Darren let loose with a full bodied laugh, giving in to the end of the game
and crouching awkwardly - in a way that only a 30 year old man can make
awkward - to the ground, finally arranging his limbs next to Daniel's
crosslegged ones. "What else do you remember?" he asked quietly, pulling the
other man's hands apart and letting the blade of grass flutter away.
Watching the blade vanish among its leafy brethren, Daniel slipped one arm
around Darren's shoulders and situated himself more comfortably. "I remember
hot October night...when we couldn't sleep and we came and sat under this
tree." His voice dropped a notch and he studied the lines in his other hand.
"And I put my arm around you and told you my most awful secret."
Darren pressed his cheek to Daniel's hair, and let his eyelids slip to a lazy
half-mast. "And I told you that you weren't the only one with a secret. And
then we ended up having the same one, anyway."
"Mum always said we were too much alike," Daniel decided. "But..." here he
looked up, shifting awkwardly into the bark so he could watch Darren's face.
"It's still true, you know. What I said."
Darren smiled quietly and pressed a quick kiss to his lover's forehead. "I
love you, too, Dan."