Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

November 2023

"Damn," Jack muttered as he caught the time on the clock out of the corner of his eye. Peter would kill him if he found out he'd stayed up this late, not to mention he'd already gotten a lecture about his sleep schedule. Dee had heavily thrown him under the bus.

A knock on the door stopped him from further considering the consequences of his actions; he knew that knock. He stood up, admittedly glad to have company while he did anything but lay down.

"'ey, Sportsy..." Dave greeted, out of breath as he clutched his stomach. "D'ya mind... if I come in?" he asked, quickly making his way over to the couch before waiting for a response. "I didn' know where else to go..."

Jack raised an eyebrow, slowly closing the door. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I— nothing's..." Dave sighed, his attempt at seeming nonchalant fading as he frowned slightly. "Please don' freak out," he whispered.

"... Dave, what's wrong?" Jack repeated, only getting more worried.

Dave looked down at the ground, silent for a while before slowly pulling his hands away and revealing a blood-soaked shirt. "Y'know, I always thought gettin' stabbed wasn' that bad..."

Jack immediately rushed towards him, "Holy shit—" he tried staying relatively quiet as to not wake up anyone, "—What the fuck happened?"

Dave tried shifting slightly, grunting as the pain got worse. "Shit, I think the adrenaline's worn off..." he mumbled, instinctively covering the wound again. "Ta think I ran 'ere..."

"I... you need to go to the hospital, Dave—"

"No!" he quickly replied. "I—I mean... no," he repeated afterwards in a quieter tone. "He'd... he'd know where I was..." he added, speaking mostly to himself.

"Who's—" Jack stood up, finally connecting the dots. "... He fucking stabbed you, didn't he?"

Dave winced, "'e... found out about us, I dunno how... an' he jus'... lost it." The more he talked, the closer he got to crying, finally processing what had happened. "Fuck, he'll find out I came 'ere again, I jus' put you in danger, didn' I?" he sighed, "Fuck, I'm so sorry Jack..."

"... Hey, it's alright," Jack comforted, putting his anger towards Henry aside for the moment. "You just got fucking stabbed, if anything I should be the one apologizing..."

Dave sighed, clutching his stomach tighter as he felt the pain get worse the more he tried doing anything.

"... I'm gonna get something to disinfect it with... I'll be right back," Jack promised him, promptly making his way over to the bathroom and grabbing the med kit from the cabinet. He, admittedly, could've been quieter, but he'd rather have another lecture than let Dave continue to bleed out.

When he got back, Jack urged him to remove his shirt, surprised at how Dave made no innuendo as he complied. He laid the shirt on the floor, more concerned with Dave than a stained carpet. They both went dead silent afterwards as Jack started doing the best he could to clean the wound, muttering apologies as Dave let out quiet whimpers.

"... Fuck, that knife got you good," Jack broke the silence as he looked at the (cleaned to the best of his ability) wound. Thankfully it hadn't gone all the way through to the other side, but he had not idea what had been hit inside. "Jesus, I think you might need stitches or something—"

"We could jus' wrap it," Dave quickly suggested, "anythin' but that right now."

Jack sighed, grabbing the elastic bandage. "Could you... try to sit up a little?" he asked. Eventually, Dave ended up positioned with his head laying on Jack's shoulder as Jack carefully began bandaging his stomach.

"... Woulda been better if 'e left it in," Dave mumbled. "It would've at least blocked the bleedin'." As Jack finished, Dave fully leaned on him, hugging him like a lifeline.

Jack didn't care to mention his grip had been a little too tight, smiling slightly at the gesture. He wrapped his arms around Dave after managing to put everything back, gently beginning to rub his back. "You need painkillers?"

Dave groaned, only moving into a more comfortable position, "I need sleep, an' you're the perfect pillow."

"... Will—"

Dave shushed him, practically dragging Jack into a better sleeping position. "I'm glad to 'ave met you. If I die in my sleep I'd rather it be in your arms," he suddenly said out of the blue.

"You're not gonna die here. Not yet, at least. I won't let you," he promised, holding Dave tighter. He would just leave the whole Henry issue for tomorrow he supposed.

Dave hummed, "So you can be optimistic." His stomach still hurt like a bitch, but he was Dave Miller; he'll be fine. Hopefully.

Jack rolled his eyes, grabbing the blanket he conveniently placed on the top of the couch as he made the decision to stay out in the living room. He silently thanked his past self. "Well, we've always gotta counteract each other it seems. You just so happen to be optimistic more times than I am."

"Oh, so I'm the reason you're so pessimistic?" Dave scoffed, feining annoyance, before immediately smiling as he finally felt warm when the blanket was put over them both. "Anyway, I'm much harder to get rid of than that. I'd find a way back to you somehow, I always will. You're in it for the long haul."

Under any other circumstance with any other person, Jack would've found that horrifying. Yet, he loved that fact, smiling to himself. "Wouldn't have it any other way," he replied, already half-asleep.

——

"... What the hell?" Peter muttered to himself as he walked out into the living room. Not only had Dave stayed the night, he had no clue when he got there, but there was a suspiciously blood-looking stain on a shirt laying on the floor next to the med kit from the bathroom. It'd already turned brownish, but he knew what dry blood looked like.

He made his way over to the couch, slowly taking the blanket off enough to notice the bandage around Dave, along with the fact that he was shirtless. He put two and two together and set the blanket back down, thinking of the best course of action. Peter had overheard plenty of concerning conversations about what Dave's father regularly did to him, and that he wasn't fond of Jack at all. Honestly, the fact that he could see his father doing something to harm him like that was alarming.

He turned towards the hallway after hearing movement, relaxing as he saw Dee. "Ew," she said, seeing the two laying on the couch. "When did he even get h...ere..." her eyes widened as she saw what might as well be crime scene evidence, her train of thought completely derailing. "Is that blood?" she asked, walking closer to get a better look.

"I... assume so. Dave's bandaged up as well."

"What the hell happened?" she asked, looking over at a clock. It was way too early for this.

"The only people that could tell us are currently asleep. If I'm correct in my assumption, though..." he sighed, "we might have to go to the police." In all honesty, he wasn't sure if they'd do much, especially considering Dave's father knows how to cheat the system.

"... Henry?" Dee muttered. She had never been a fan of the guy, the few times they met having creeped her out.

Peter nodded, his mind going back to all the warning signs. "In hindsight I'm surprised something like this hasn't happened sooner. I'm just not sure what caused him to snap."

"Wait a minute, is he gonna be staying here?" she asked, staring at Dave. "You've gotta be joking." To be fair, he spent most of his time at their house anyway since Henry was typically gone most of the day. It wouldn't be that different, she just wanted to be petty.

"I... need more time to think, Dee. I'm still only just guessing here." He picked up the shirt from the ground, surprised at just how much blood had gotten on it, concentrated near the very visible tear in the fabric. Definitely stabbed. He sighed, "I'm gonna go get breakfast going, keep a watch on them."

"... What do you want me to do if they wake up?"

"Just keep them busy I s'pose," he replied, looking away. "I'll bring medicine, I'd imagine it'll hurt like hell once he wakes up, and I'm not sure when those bandages were put on him, but they'll probably need to get replaced once he wakes up."

"You sure like planning," Dee commented, sitting on the seat next to the couch and grabbing the remote.

"It's just... easier to track that way," he said, grabbing a notepad to write everything down. "You know how I can get," he mumbled, not sure if he was talking to Dee or himself.

She rolled her eyes, getting comfortable as she started looking through channels. She would never admit it in a million years, but the thought of Dave actually being hurt was somewhat depressing. Somewhat. Despite their ongoing rivalry, he had become a part of the family. An irreplaceable part.

—

A groan from beside her stole her attention from the TV screen almost immediately, watching as Dave started shifting like he was trying to find a position to best stop the pain. It was painful to both watch and hear.

"Hey," she greeted, foregoing an insult like she'd usually follow up with. She turned the volume down on the TV, not sure if it'd be too much for him; she knew he could get overwhelmed easily.

Dave noticeably tensed as he heard the unexpected voice before turning his head to look at her. He also decided not to throw an insult her way. However, Dee didn't know if he simply chose not to or if he was incapable of talking through the pain.

"Uh, here," she said as she stood up, grabbing the glass of water and medicine Peter had left on the coffee table. Dave did his best to sit up, carefully taking both from her. His hands were noticeably shaking slightly, though he managed not to spill anything.

She, meanwhile, immediately noticed the bandage around his stomach had become soaked with blood, definitely needing to be changed like Peter had said. She could also make out some other scattered scars around that area, but she wasn't exactly a fan of the fact that he was shirtless.

"I'll go tell Peter you're awake," she told him, which earned a very small nod. It was pitiful how unlike himself he was acting, void of any of his previous humor. She really didn't like him being serious, even though that had been all she wanted when she first met him.

Peter thanked her when she informed him, beginning to wash his hands. "I'm done anyway, think you can handle plating?" he asked her.

She scoffed, but began doing so, "I thought child labor was outlawed in the '30s."

Peter smiled back at her anyway, "Thank you." As much as he loved the back and forths they'd have, he really didn't want to waste too much time.

"Hi," Peter greeted as he walked into the living room again, taking the seat Dee had been sitting in before. Jack still seemed to be asleep unfortunately. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked, choosing to leave the harder questions for later.

Dave nodded, though it was obvious he was still in some pain. He gave a quiet thanks, at least comfortable enough to talk.

Peter smiled slightly, trying to make him feel safer. "Your bandages should be changed," he noted, "do you mind if I do that or do you want Jack to?"

Dave looked down, staying silent for a while. "You can," he quietly replied.

"... Okay," Peter said, standing to grab the new bandages. "It's fine if you don't want me to," he clarified, "I won't be mad. I just want you to be comfortable."

"'s fine," Dave said before thanking Peter again.

Peter smiled again before carefully undoing the old bandages and replacing them. He cleaned the wound in between, apologizing when he saw Dave's pained expression. He would really prefer to bring the man to a hospital, but he doubted Jack hadn't tried to do that already and he knew how much Dave didn't trust doctors.

"Now, I want you to be honest," he said after everything had been taken care of, "what happened?"

Dave looked away, not sure of what exactly to say. It felt like even thinking about him would make him appear again.

"... Was it your father?" Peter eventually asked as it was clear Dave wouldn't respond. Dave hesitantly nodded in response. "Do you know why?" he asked, again met with Dave nodding.

Dave stopped to look down at Jack as he whispered Dave's name, who sat up as he noticed Peter in the room. Dave moved off of him at that point, doing his best to ignore the pain, but kept his legs on Jack's lap. Jack, meanwhile, just rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, surprised they got up at a reasonable time despite it being damn near two when they went to sleep.

"... Do you want us to eat at the table or just here?" Dee asked, finally finding a break in their conversation to speak.

Peter considered it for a moment, "We can eat here."

Dee nodded. "Alright," she responded, going back to get the plates.

"No, I can do it," Peter said, getting up. He then turned his attention towards Dave, "Uh, do you feel like you can eat food?"

Dave shrugged, "I... can try..." He really hadn't considered what was internally still going on, sure they 'stopped' the bleeding outside but he could likely still be bleeding internally. Then again, Henry had enough medical knowledge to hit an area that would kill him relatively fast. The fact that he wasn't dead yet probably meant Henry wanted him alive.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked, laying a hand on his cheek. Dave was cold, moreso that usual. At least his bandages had been changed it seemed.

Dave leaned into the touch, smiling at the warmth. "I'll be fine," he replied, turning to press a kiss into Jack's hand, "promise."

Dee silently judged their display of affection, tearing her gaze away as Peter returned. She thanked him, focusing on eating rather than the gay travesty happening to the left of her.

"Dave, do you mind if I call Caroline over?" Peter asked as he finished putting down everyone's plates on the coffee table. "She knows the most about anatomy out of any of us, and I know you'd trust her," he reasoned, "seeing as she used to work as a nurse, she'd be the next best thing if we're not going to a hospital."

Dave let out a small sigh, leaning his head on Jack's shoulder. "Yeah, you're probably right," he agreed. "It's... not like I don' wanna go, trust me I'm not stupid, but I feel a lot safer surrounded by people I know, and who know me, while I sleep."

Jack wrapped an arm around Dave as Peter briefly went off to grab his phone. He kissed his forehead, gently rocking him back and forth. "It's okay," he told him, looking over at Dee.

She met his gaze, huffing as she realized he wanted her to say something comforting as well. She looked over at where Peter had gone making sure he was out of ear shot. "If it makes you feel better, I have a horrible sleep schedule too anyway. I'll be awake if anything happens," she whispered.

"I knew it," Jack whispered back, "you bitch, you threw me under the bus." Dave silently chuckled as he registered the fact that he just called Dee a bitch.

She rolled her eyes, "Oh please, you've done that plenty of times to me. Plus, you were kinda loud, I couldn't have slept even if I wanted to."

"You—" Jack shut up as Peter returned, who raised an eyebrow as he noticed Dave's smile.

"Uh..." he shook his head, deciding not to ask, "she'll be over in a little. She, uh... also got mad I hadn't told her sooner."

"Aw, lover boy's sad his girlfriend got a little mad at him," Dee teased, beginning to eat with a smirk on her face.

"Hey, she's my fiancé," he corrected, crossing his arms, "and I'm not sad."

"Suree," Jack said, joining in on the teasing.

"You cannot be talking," Peter snapped, trying to cover his blush. "You cried for ten minutes because you thought you made Dave cry."

Jack covered his face as well, "Look, I was already emotional that day," he mumbled in defense.

"Wha— when did that happen?" Dave asked as he sat up again.

"Just before your birthday a few weeks ago," Peter said, "he came to me and cried on my shoulder for ten whole minutes."

Dee just continued eating as she watched them target each other. She chose to stay silent, smart enough to dodge strays from the battle she'd started herself.

——

Peter and Dee left to clean up the plates, leaving Jack and Dave alone. Peter had been smart enough to put much less on Dave's plate, making it easier for him to try and stomach.

Jack waited until they were fully out of the room to finally ask Dave, "What exactly happened?"

Dave hesitated for a while before deciding to get it over with since it was just Jack in the room. "I 'ad, um, come back home late again. I'd assume 'e wouldn' have been home that night but I think 'e'd been suspecting somethin' was going on ever since I first got home after 'e'd already gotten there."

He continued, "'e said he'd been watchin' where I'd been going an' said he saw me quite regularly over 'ere. I tried telling him that nothing was going on an' we were jus' friends but 'e... must've had proof because he just wouldn' fucking let it go. I thought he must've gotten tired or something 'cause he just eventually let me go ta my room an' I had assumed he'd leave it for tomorrow but 'e entered a while later as I'd begun ta fall asleep an' he just... y'know..." he said, looking down at his wound.

"He didn't even... seem mad as 'e did it... he jus'... had the same amount a' emotion as if he'd been doin' taxes, not fuckin' stabbing me. An' then 'e jus'... just left as I asked him why he 'ad..." Dave looked away, clearing his throat. "I didn' know where else ta go. My only thought was that you'd help me... I don' know why he just left me there. He didn' even make sure I was dead... unless he jus' got a kick out of hurtin' me."

Jack silently rubbed his back, kissing Dave's cheek as he did so. "It's alright," he comforted as Dave began quietly crying. Quite honestly, he didn't particularly like the idea of Henry stalking them, especially since he'd been so sure they were dating. "I'll be right beside you," he promised him, "and if he tries anything I will fucking murder him."

Dave laughed, a hollow sound betrayed by the tears still streaming down his face. In reality, he wasn't even sure he wanted to see Henry hurt and that fact destroyed him. Had he been led on for so long that he genuinely couldn't muster enough anger towards him? Is that why Henry didn't kill him? Not because he wanted to see him hurt but because he'd come crawling back to him sooner or later?

Peter and Dee stood in the doorway of the kitchen, silently observing from afar. Neither were sure when exactly would be the right time to make their presence known, but Peter decided to let the two have their peace, ushering Dee away and over to the hallway connecting most of their rooms.

Dee felt a chill run up her spine at the sound of Dave's all but pitiful sobs, deciding to move further into the hallway away from them. She'd honestly never seen him nearly that vulnerable, though she'd also never seen him get stabbed before. "Is there... anything we can do?" she asked as Peter began quietly pacing. She didn't like any part of this situation, their past history be damned.

Peter seemed equally as lost, staring at her for a second before responding. "Not only did he injure his own child in their sleep, but he couldn't even spare a smile, a frown, anything as he did it..."

Dee sighed, "I mean, have you heard anything about the guy? I'm surprised he let him live." She felt a chill run down her spine as she imagined Jack's own sobs if Dave had really died that night.

"I know, but..." Peter ran a hand through his hair, "people have motivations behind what they do. I have no clue why he does any of this... Unless he's truly just that sadistic."

Dee laid back against the wall, "He's been watching him," she reminded. "Does that mean he...?"

Peter stilled, another thought occurring, "He... could've not know at all, but wanted to figure out where Dave had been going. And since Dave did indeed come here, he now knows his assumption was right."

Dee sighed, "Look, we can't keep making up our own motivations, we have no clue what was going through that man's mind." She tensed as a knock on the door rang through the house.

Peter looked over, smiling as he saw his fiancé through the glass next to the door as she waved. He quickly made his way over to open the door for her, noticing she'd brought her bag of supplies. She smiled back at him, giving him a small hug and kiss before focusing on what she'd originally come over for.

"Hey, Dave," she greeted, making her way over to assess what had happened. "Ah, sorry Jack, you might have to move," she said, noticing they were basically clinging onto each other. He slowly nodded, moving over to the seat next to the couch, but still holding Dave's hand.

"Better," she said, carefully urging Dave to lay down. "I'll be as gentle as possible, I promise." She slowly began undoing the bandage wrapped around the wound, immediately knowing they were in for the long run as she finally got a good glimpse at it.

Chapter Text

October 2023

Jack slowly closed the door to his bedroom behind him not wanting to tick Peter off anymore than he had been that night. The last thing he wanted was to be grounded like he was a kid again.

He sighed, taking off his shirt and throwing it somewhere on the floor. Five knocks on his window caught his attention before his partner unsurprisingly opened the window himself once he realized Jack had neglected to lock it the last time Dave paid him a visit.

"'ey handsome," Dave greeted, closing the window behind him. This was far from the first time he'd entered from that specific window. "Glad ta see your shirt's already off. Makes my job easi-"

"Dave, you shouldn't be here," Jack interrupted, even though he'd prefer Dave stay. God knows what Peter would do if he found out he'd visited him.

Dave raised an eyebrow, but whispered nonetheless, "Why? Plus, that hasn' stopped me before." He made his way over to Jack's bed, taking his shoes off before laying on his back.

Jack wanted nothing more than to lay next to him and fall asleep, but they'd definitely get in trouble once Peter woke up. "Look, Peter's beyond pissed at m—"

"When's 'e not?" Dave countered before stretching. "What'd ya do this time?"

"Dee cursed and apparently he thinks it's my fault," he explained, only half-lying, "but seriously, he'll kill us if he finds you right after we fought."

Dave's expression saddened ever so slightly, reminding Jack of a hurt puppy. "I, uh..." he looked down, "Henry's not happy either. I-"

Jack gave in as soon as he saw Dave's eyes beginning to water, quietly locking his door before laying next to him. "... Okay," he said, turning towards Dave, "Peter's reasonable enough to understand that at least."

Dave huffed, wiping his eyes, "'Reasonable' my ass."

Jack shook his head, "I know he's a prick sometimes but he'd never not understand how much of a bitch Henry is."

Dave looked away for a moment. He'd long since given up the pointless quest of defending Henry's name. "... My birthday's soon," he said after a while, turning his body towards Jack.

"Oh, trust me. I know." He'd marked the date on his calendar months ago in preparation, and he'd already gotten presents. As much as they fought, Peter still cared for him and Dave, so he'd helped out in terms of money. He'd even agreed to let Jack have a leap year to figure out what he wanted to do.

Dave half-smiled, putting a hand of Jack's chest. "The big eighteen... I don' feel like an adult yet." His eyes ventured down, trying to distract himself from the fact that he'd have to go back home at some point.

"... Peter said you never do." Jack put his hand over Dave's as his face blushed slightly. He still hadn't gotten used to the amount of attention Dave gave him; he was usually an afterthought to most. "I'm not ready for mine either."

Dave hummed, clearly only half-listening. "How tired are you?" he asked in a low tone after a while of staring.

Jack gently took Dave's hand away from his chest, shaking his head. "Not tonight, Davey," he replied, running his other hand through Dave's hair and taking out the tie still in it.

"Okay," Dave responded, opting to give him a quick kiss instead. He took the hair tie from Jack and put it in his pocket before taking his own shirt off and throwing it next to Jack's. "What'd you actually do?" he asked after a while.

"I gave her five bucks to curse in front of one of her teachers. She got in actual trouble and snitched on me when Peter asked her about it."

Dave rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket over them both. "Fuckin' middle school. What'd she even say?"

"I wanted to ask her but Peter started grilling me as soon as she got home. The rest of the night was way too tense for any of us to talk, let alone me ask her something like that."

"... Bet it was a some shit jus' like 'hell' an' they thought it was the end of the fuckin' world."

Jack couldn't help but smile at how Dave's accent was stronger when tired. Dave seemed to hate that part of himself, but Jack found it adorable. "Keep talkin' like that and I think you'll just summon Peter." It also seemed to have rubbed off slightly on him with how much they'd been spending time together.

Dave smiled back at him, "'ey, this is how I normally talk. I'm surprised 'e's only ever jus' told me to tone it down."

"Y'know, he used to hate you. Guess he either realized there was absolutely no getting rid of you or just felt bad after hearing your upbringing." Or he realized Jack was genuinely happy for the first time since their parents died because of Dave.

"S'pose that makes sense. I never stopped to think about why 'e barely talked ta me at first before suddenly switching up." Dave closed his eyes, feeling the burn of having them open for longer than recommended. "God, it feels so nice ta finally be out a' school. You were the only good part about it."

Jack tucked a piece of hair behind Dave's ear before laying his hand on his cheek. "Likewise," he replied before closing his eyes as well and yawning.

"... 'ey, if ya want me to, I can wake up early enough ta sneak out before 'e realizes I was ever 'ere," Dave offered after a while.

Jack was quick to shake his head despite both of their eyes being closed. "No, no, it's fine. I don't want you going back to..." he trailed off. "Even on the off chance it does get me in deeper shit, I'd rather you stay a little longer." Dave's face warmed, though he didn't respond.

——

"He had a fight with Henry," he explained before Peter even asked why Dave was there. "Just let him sleep, he probably needs it."

Peter looked between the two before sighing deeply. "... I'll go make breakfast," he said, turning away from Jack. He didn't even have the energy to lecture him about locking his door.

They still hadn't talked about their fight and Jack suspected it'd be put off until Dave left. He slowly closed his door most of the way, turning back to the man still asleep on his bed. Dave immediately clung onto Jack when he sat next to him again, mumbling something vaguely sounding like his name.

Jack smiled down at him before getting the feeling that he was being watched. He looked up at the window in his room, but didn't see anything. The curtains had been left open unfortunately, but he doubted anyone was actually there. For some reason he'd been more paranoid for the past few weeks.

Dee lightly knocked on the open door, stealing his attention away from giving that anymore thought. "I know I've been throwing you under a lot recently," she started, "it's nothing personal; just business."

Jack just glared at her, "And?"

She groaned, "Okay, sorry. There." She then left as quickly as she appeared, though he wasn't sure why she even bothered. Maybe Peter finally realized she wasn't completely innocent and made her apologize.

Jack shook his head, looking back down at his partner. He'd been jealous of the fact that Dave had no siblings to annoy him everyday—though, ironically—Dave had expressed jealousy of Jack having siblings to keep him company. "She didn't even close my door," he lamented to Dave's still sleeping body. "You'd think she'd at least do that if she was actually sorry."

Dave nodded slightly, his eyes still closed though he was presumably beginning to wake up. He mumbled God knows what as he stirred, still holding onto Jack. Jack smiled at him, playing with Dave's hair as he muttered something incoherent again, but sounding vaguely like an 'I love you.'

Jack hummed, kissing his forehead. "Peter's making breakfast," he told him, "you don't have to leave yet."

Dave smiled, slowly sitting up and stretching. "Food~" he mumbled, leaning his body on Jack's. "Can't remember the last time I ate," he admitted.

"... I know," Jack replied, wrapping his arms around him. "At least put a shirt on before we go out, alright?"

Dave's eyes opened slightly as he realized Jack had already put one on. "Not fair," he complained before giving up and grabbing the shirt Jack had, at some point, held out for him.

"Good boy," Jack whispered as he put the shirt on, smiling as Dave quickly averted his gaze at the phrase. He stood up, holding his hand out for Dave to take.

Dave eyed his hand for a moment before taking it and muttering, "Asshole." It was rare for their roles to be reversed like this, Dave didn't particularly enjoy it. Jack, on the other hand, found it just a little funny.

——

November 2023

Dave hadn't left Jack's side for more than a full day now, besides when one had to go to the bathroom. He didn't mind it at all, though he hated not being able to walk for long periods of time. Caroline had all but completely patched up the wound, though it was still unbelievably sore as his body was still healing itself.

He didn't talk much, partly due to the circumstances, partly due to it physically hurting because of the position of the wound. Most of his time was spent either reminiscing or listening, and it freaked everyone out. Even Dee—who'd proclaimed her hatred for how loud he could be at times—missed his ramblings, even if just a little as background noise.

Jack, most of all, wasn't a fan of silent Dave. He loved listening to his long winded and questionably off-topic rants. Being the one talking more than listening was weird to say the least.

"Guess you won't have to go in through my window anymore," Jack commented, looking over at Dave as the movie they were watching came to an end. They were the only ones in the house since Dee was at school and Peter was at work. Caroline stayed over for a while, but she eventually had to go to work as well.

Dave shrugged before repositioning himself on Jack's lap. He tapped his hands on Jack's neck, trying to recall a melody that was just out of his memory. "What d'you want ta do?" he eventually asked, closing his eyes. "For a job I mean."

Jack had asked himself that many times, and he'd never gotten to an answer that fully fit. "Anything BUT customer service, an office job, or working with kids," he eventually answered. "... What about you?"

Anywhere you worked. "Mechanics probably, since that's what I like. Though, I dunno if that's what I'd actually want as a job." He kept trying to remember the song, he could've sworn it was from his childhood.

Jack looked up at the TV as it asked if they were still watching. "Do you wanna watch something else or something else?" he asked Dave, carefully rubbing the man's back.

"... Can I try walkin' again?" he asked in turn, restless. The last few attempts weren't bad, but it certainly hurt like hell if he didn't have any help.

Jack quietly sighed, but nodded nonetheless. "Just be careful," he replied, gently helping Dave back to his feet. One of his hands held Dave's while the other supported his back.

Dave stayed still for a while, letting his legs get used to being up again while he looked over at the window in Jack's room. It was now covered by the curtain. "You won' 'ave ta go through my window anymore either," he eventually said before deciding to move.

Jack seldom snuck into Dave's bedroom, especially compared to the amount of times Dave had snuck into his. He had done it on a couple occasions, but they'd both always rather get caught together by Peter than by Henry. And, Peter actually noticed when Jack wasn't at the house, so there was little reason for him to be the one to leave. The statement still stood though; he wouldn't have to sneak through Dave's window either.

"You're probably the only person besides me an' Henry that actually knows there's a house there," Dave eventually told him.

"That's not surprising with how hidden it is," Jack responded. "How'd you even get there from school everyday?"

"It wasn' difficult ta get there once you know the path, it jus' took an absurdly long ass time."

Jack huffed, "Would've been nice to know that path."

"I know," Dave agreed, "'ey, I tried my best to give you directions."

"Guess it's not your fault when the best directions you could give were 'take a left at the 47th tree' and 'do a u-turn at the 83rd leaf pile.'"

Dave hummed, opening the door of the room. "You just 'ad to live there an' know it by heart I s'pose."

"... Where are you going?" Jack asked, doing his best to keep up with Dave as he sped up.

"Just tryin' to see 'ow fast I can go." He was only speed walking, but by the lack of excruciating pain he could tell he'd been able to go a little faster if he had more room. "Fuck, I wish I could actually pace," he noted after a while of going back and forth.

"What does that mean?"

"Henry mocks me for it so much, but..." he really hadn't told anyone this, "a lot of the free time I 'ave at home is spent pacing back an' forth. He told me I look like an 'autistic lunatic' whenever 'e caught me."

Jack scoffed, carefully leading Dave to the couch so he could rest. "Everyone has their own way of entertaining themselves. What's the difference between someone who jogs outside and someone who paces inside?"

"One gets more sun," Dave replied, kicking his feet. "I don' really know why I pace, but I've been doin' it since I was a kid."

"Knowing you, it's probably because you're constantly understimulated." Dave would always be doing a million things at once and somehow manage to still be bored. "It's not a bad thing though," he said, "I don't get why anyone would go out of their way to condemn how someone else likes spending their time if it isn't hurting anyone."

"... 'e doesn' like 'ow I sometimes make random noises or flap my hands when I'm excited. Says it's childish," Dave added, sighing. The more he thought about it, the more he realized there wasn't a single thing he could say Henry genuinely liked about him.

Jack found it endearing how unapologetically himself Dave acted, it was one of the main reasons he first fell for him. "Well, I love it," he replied, taking Dave's hand and pressing a kiss into it.

Dave couldn't help but smile, "How'd I manage ta find you?" He couldn't—nor did he want to ever—imagine a life without Jack. He wanted Jack to be the first and last thing he saw each day, he'd gladly end up being the old married couple that fought all the time but only did so because they loved each other.

"I could ask you the same thing," Jack said before sitting up to give him a proper kiss. He ran his fingers through Dave's hair, realizing a part of him preferred when his hair was down like it was now, but he understood why Dave liked it being up most of the time. Either way, Jack found him cute.

"When will the others get back?" Dave asked, his eyes half-lidded as he leaned his weight back on the couch.

"... Tired?"

Dave nodded, "Y'might 'ave ta carry me back." He loved being carried bridal style almost as much as he loved kebabs. Something about it fulfilled his sensory needs in all the right ways.

Jack's gaze softened as he looked down at Dave. "Well, since we're out here, lemme go to the bathroom real quick," he replied, slowly standing up, "then I'll carry you wherever you want, alright?"

Dave nodded, smiling to himself as he unashamedly stared at Jack's ass as he left. If they weren't dead, he'd personally thank Jack's parents for perfectly crafting a—

"William," an all too familiar voice cut through his thoughts, tone cold as ever. "Shame, I expected you to have noticed me earlier." Henry stood next to the front door, a foreign object invading a safe space.

Dave tried to reply, but found his throat unable to produce any sound beyond a pathetically quiet noise. He thought he was more prepared than this.

"Still recovering I see," he observed, gaze lingering over the bandages covering the wound he himself had inflicted. "I'm... deeply sorry," he said, his tone unchanging though Dave knew he hated apologizing (if that could even be considered an apology). "You know everything I do is because I care."

"... Bullshit," Dave managed out, "you fuckin' stabbed me." Don't listen to him, he always lies.

"Because you're being used. I couldn't bear to watch it continue, but my effort only ended up leading you back here." Henry made no attempt to get closer to Dave, though it felt like he was cornered anyway.

"What the fuck do you mean I'm—"

"I should've never let you out of my sight, none of this would've happened," he interrupted. "I'll make sure you're never taken advantage of again, we'll start over as a real... family."

"You still haven'—" he looked down, processing what he'd said, "a family?" It's an empty promise, don't listen.

"Of course. Though, you don't make it easy to help you, William. Still, I want nothing more than to see you return to our home safe and sound. I know you'll do the right—"

"Get the fuck out," Jack's voice cut through his, filled with nothing but venom. He hadn't even left for a minute.

Henry shrugged, knowing his time was up, "Finally someone with a working brain. You know, you would be perfect for—"

"Out," Jack repeated, wishing he had a knife. He slowly made his way closer to Dave, gently putting a hand on his shoulder in a protective gesture.

"... I'll be back," he promised, making his way over to the front door and going through it. He made one final look back before finally exiting completely.

"... He... he gave up easier than I thought 'e would." Dave let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, realizing his heart had been racing without him noticing. He looked up at Jack, who was equally as shaken up.

"We're gonna have to get the police involved..." Jack mumbled, looking down at Dave. They weren't safe when they were alone as long as that man was free.