September
1989

When Danny got to the hospital he found Scott curled up beneath a blanket, Peter's jumper draped across him, his Mother sat in the chair by his bedside. Danny froze for a minute in the doorway, his heart slamming against his ribcage, ears ringing, fingers mindlessly curled into fists. It hurt, knowing Scott was injured and he wasn't there to stop it. It stirred up familiar feelings of helplessness and unrest. He wasn't sure he could bear it.

Susie turned around when she saw him, smiling sadly as she got up from the chair, "He's been asking for you." She said sweetly, giving her son's hand a squeeze, "I'll give you guys some space."

Danny couldn't even muster up any words for her, so watched her leave in silence before walking up to Scott's bedside, his breath hitching in his throat.

Scott's face was a pallet of raw purple flesh, swollen and bloody, bruises littering his perfect skin. Blood was tangled into his knotted curls and dried up on his chin where it had spilt from his busted lip. His arm was wrapped up in bandages, and Danny could only imagine the damage that was concealed beneath the hospital blankets.

Danny instinctively tangled his fingers into Scott's hair, his other hand finding Scott's, giving it a small squeeze, "Hey." He breathed out shakily.

Scott tried to smile but winced instead, "Hi, Danny." He choked out.

"You're alive." Danny couldn't sit down, he was too restless and too angry, so instead he hovered there, by his boyfriend's side, holding his hand and trying to ignore the ache in his chest. "That's something."

Scott laughed dryly, then coughed, "Am I still beautiful?"

Danny tried to blink away the tears prickling at his eyes, forcing a smile which he knew couldn't be very convincing, "You're beautiful, Scott. You're always bloody beautiful."

Scott squeezed his hand back, sensing that Danny needed comforting more than he did right now, "I hope you're not too jealous of my beauty." He teased, voice hoarse and broken, "Jealousy's not a good look, even for you, Danny. And you can pull off anything."

Danny had to laugh otherwise he might cry, "God, I love you, you bloody idiot." He gushed, voice unsteady.

Scott's gaze was firm and unwavering, "I'm okay, Danny." He squeezed his hand a little tighter, "I'm okay. I promise."

Danny didn't believe him, and in a moment of weakness, a tear slipped down his cheek, and then another, and then another. "M'sorry." He choked out, not wiping at his wet cheeks because he didn't want to pull away from Scott. He needed to touch him to reassure himself that he was real, he was breathing, he was alive.

"Hey." Scott whispered, "Hey, c'mon, Danny, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm fine. I promise you. I'm fine."

"I'm meant to be the one making you feel better." Danny realised guiltily, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay-"

"What happened?"

Scott fell silent, his gaze dodging Danny's, grip tightening around Danny's fingers involuntarily, "Snowy." Was all he could say.

"I'm gonna kill that fucking-"

"Danny."

Danny stopped talking, noticing the gentle pleading in Scott's eyes, "How injured are you?" He asked, because he wasn't sure he wanted hear about the attack right now. He wasn't sure Scott wanted to tell him about it either.

"A fracture in my arm and a broken rib." He said, raising his non-injured arm to wipe the tears off of Danny's face, "I'm lucky; the rest of the injuries are just bruises, though I think those are the most tragic. They're fucking up my gorgeous face."

Danny tried not to recoil, "That doesn't sound very lucky, Scott. A fracture?" He eyes fell down to Scott's arm.

"It's not that serious."

"You're just saying that so I won't worry."

"Of course I am." Scott tried to smile but it still hurt too much. "Look, Danny, I promise you, I'm okay. Just tired and a little high on pain meds. That's all, alright?"

"Is Snowy gonna get arrested?"

Scott sighed, "Probably not. I haven't spoken to the police yet."

"But you're gonna tell them, right? You're gonna tell them it was him?"

Scott didn't meet his eye, "I haven't thought about what I'm gonna tell them yet-"

"You're gonna tell them the truth." Danny said firmly, perhaps a little too forcefully.

"Danny, it's not that simple-"

"He attacked you."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm a faggot." Scott snapped back, "The same reason he's been harassing me in the school hallways for years. It's not..." He took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in his ribs, "No one cared when he was doing it then and no one's gonna care that he's doing it now."

Danny hesitated, eyes softening, "Scott-"

"People get attacked for this shit all the time, Danny. I know it's the eighties, but the world isn't as progressive as you might think. The police aren't gonna give a shit about me, not when they realise why I...why it happened." He gulped, "What's the point?" He gave up, sounding defeated and exhausted, "Snowy's gonna get away with it either way, and if I kick up a fuss now, he's only gonna make life harder for me down the line."

Danny wanted to argue with him but he knew that Scott was right. The world was still cold and dark and hostile, even now, as they neared the nineties. The world was the reason he couldn't say the word out loud for so long. Gay. That word was filled with connotations of disgust and hatred and violence. Things like this. His boyfriend winding up in hospital, bloody and bruised and broken, forced into silence because no one wanted to listen to him.

It should make Danny shrink away from it all. From that word. From the attraction he feels for the boy in the bed beside him. From images of his uncle in a similar hospital bed, dying of AIDS, alone and scared. But he doesn't shrink away - if anything, he wanted to say the word more than ever. He wants everyone to know he's gay. He's loud and angry and takes up space in the world. He's important but not as important as Scott. Scott with his gentle hands and soft lips and bruised body. Scott who is all sweetness. Scott who is all Danny's.

"You do what you feel is right." Danny said eventually, expression soft and understanding. Maybe one day the world would be ready for their anger, their demands for justice, their desire to be heard. But right now, the world was still too cold and they were still too young.

"Thank you, Danny." Scott whispered back, eyes half lidded as exhaustion tried to pull him under.

"I'll keep you safe, okay?" And he hated that it was cliche, and he hated that flare of protectiveness inside him, but this was a promise he intended to keep. "I'll walk you to school, to work, everywhere you need to go. He won't even get near you."

Scott smiled at him endearingly, "You're all sweetness, y'know that?"

Danny grinned at hearing his own words repeated back to him, "Stop it, you big flirt."

"Mmm." Scott hummed sleepily, "I learn from the best."

Danny chuckled, fingers playing with Scott's hair distractedly, "Go to sleep, Scotty."

"You won't leave me?" Scott murmured, already half asleep. The pain meds had hit, wrapping him in a warm embrace and lulling him into unconsciousness.

Danny squeezed his hand, letting him know that he was right there, "I won't leave you." He whispered, and once he was sure Scott was asleep, "Not ever."