John knew hundreds of men, knew of thousands more, all taken by the savage disease. But things had come so far since those dark days. Of course he still had a healthy fear, anyone with a brain would, but John knew the fear was unwarranted.

So fucking what if he caught something? He wasn't going to die. He was walking around with the power of God keeping him breathing since cancer had eaten his insides. He was pretty sure that if cancer couldn't snuff him, anything else was probably just inconvenient.

Nothing he was going to tell Danny, though. Maybe some other time. The man seemed to want to know all about him...eventually he'd have to tell him that.

"Come on, now," he said, pulling Danny back in so he could feel the whole of him.