Journey

Tarot - Wheel of Fortune


Friendship and Trust


Daniel, it turned out, had the entire floor of the building to himself. "It was easier," he explained, "For them, if they could always -- find me in one place." He offered John the spare room in his apartment, which was cozy and comfortable, albeit a little dusty from lack of use. He wondered a little why Daniel would even have need of a spare room, but he certainly had no complaints that he did.

In fact, he began to wonder why he hadn't thought of Daniel long ago. There was a comfort, in being around him, like he'd known him for his whole life - which, he reflected, was almost true, at least as far as his fake memories were concerned. But this Daniel was different from the man he remembered in his dreams - the teacher who guided him, kindly but firmly pushing him to learn, to achieve, to make him strong enough to defeat the Strangers. No, this Daniel was calm. Still just as kind, but quiet, gentle. Patient. Smiling when John spoke and answering his questions in detail, no matter how frivolous, regardless of the broken speech pattern caused by his troubled breathing.

"What happened to you?" John asked one morning, as they sat over a light breakfast and hot milk tea in the small, tidy kitchen. "The way you breathe, the limp..." he stopped, not wanting to continue the list.

Daniel looked a little surprised at his inquiry, but smiled, that patient smile from the lips that twisted from the scars on his face. "Them, I'm afraid. Some of these -- I remember getting, but I can't -- answer to all of them. They wiped my -- memories fairly often, you see. Punishment for -- disobedience. Mr. Hand liked -- his knife... ah, it doesn't matter. They couldn't kill me, of course. I was too -- valuable to them. But I think they found -- that it was easier to keep track of me, control me -- like this. If I couldn't -- run very far." A soft laugh, with just a hint of bitterness.

"I'm sorry," John said softly, finding himself both enraged and surprisingly saddened by his words, but not knowing what else to say.

The doctor shook his head. "It doesn't -- trouble me, not much. It's a reminder. Not to -- go quietly, into the night," he stated, looking a little introspective, though John couldn't place the significance of his words. Daniel turned to him, blue eyes catching the gaze of his green ones with a sudden intensity. Pleading. "Please don't believe -- that I did what I did willingly, John."

John found himself shaking his head, not breaking eye contact. "No... I don't. You couldn't do something like that."

"Thank you," he replied softly, and his visible relief came coupled with a strange kind of vulnerability, and some other emotion that John couldn't quite identify. "You..." he started, then stopped, shaking his head a little. "Thank you. It's... very kind of you."

John reached over to place a hand gently on his forearm, which seemed to calm the other man a little. "There's no need to thank me. No friendship without trust, right?"

Daniel gave him a small smile, looking down at the hand on his arm, covering it with his free hand. "It's strange... how easily people talk -- of friendship and -- trust. Really, they are the greatest strengths, the greatest -- gifts -- of the human race. Something that they -- never learned, I think." He raised his eyes again, voice even softer. "It means -- a lot to me, to have you -- here. Thank you, John."

John smiled, feeling an unexpected warmth at his words, warm like Daniel's hand on his. And he realized how very true Daniel's words were, and how fortunate he was to have Daniel as a support, as a constant amongst all this uncertainty. "No," he replied softly, "Thank you."