you say there's no use tryin' to protect you from the danger and dread

[masc4masc]

[ the last thing dirk had expected when he popped back by the shithole apartment he grew up in was an entire teenager with one foot in the grave in his old bed. and like, first off, fucked up. second, extra fucked up. the fact that bro seems to remember he exists when dirk asks him what the fuck is going on is bad enough, but using it as an excuse to enact training when the kid can't even stand up straight on his own is too much.

dirk is a calm, rational, and logical guy.

he loses his entire shit on bro, punches him in the face so hard his shades crack, and takes dave (he has to pry the name out of bro like it's some kind of secret that he's called something other than kid) to the fucking hospital, where he's clearly never been.

it's grim. the eventual prognosis is good once they get the fever down and set the busted arm back in place, but dirk never settles. he watches dave like a hawk as he gets treated, sets work aside to stay by him, and only resolves to go back to work and check on all his shit once dave's sleeping in his new room in dirk's apartment instead of knocked the fuck out.

he's got a nurse and doctor still coming by periodically: the wonders of money used for the power of good for once. dirk figures having the privacy will help, because now that dave's awake and lucid and talking it's like he was socialized even less than dirk himself ever was.

they can work up to that.

so he goes back to work. gotta make money to pay for all this medical care after all because america is a fucking hellscape. he thinks maybe he'll make a donation to the hospital. new wing or something. doesn't matter, he doesn't put too much thought to it when he's busy with taking care of dave.

he's gentler with dave than he is in his normal life, but he's not very good at it. he still has trouble emoting properly from how he grew up but he never really considers it when dealing with anyone else so he just hopes it comes across that he gives a shit.

this continues for a bit. dirk gets up, eats, makes a plate for dave, goes to work, comes home, the plate's not touched. he packs it up, tucks the leftovers away for later, and tries to figure out what's going on.

it's been days. dave doesn't look better but he doesn't actively look more starving, so he's eating something so dirk checks the security cameras.

he genuinely cannot figure out why the entire fuck the kid is eating dirk's leftover scraps out of the trash, is the thing. he's confused as hell, unsure how to approach it, and doesn't want to make dave think he's spying on him even though he kind of did.

the only solution he can come up with is... not leave the leftovers? surely if there's no trash for dave to be weird about he'll eat the plates dirk is making him. surely.

surely.

so that's what he does: he takes the trash out with him when he leaves for work, but makes sure it's obvious that he's made a plate for dave to have when he wakes up.

normal. definitely. the food will absolutely be eaten when he gets home. ]