Chapter Text
Jake exhales and rolls over in his bed, eyes cracking open to see the gentle morning light flooding into the room with a cool glow. It was early. His sleep had been light last night. The wolves had been out and were howling, loud enough to stir him from his sleep on multiple occasions.
He sits up and shakes the remnants of sleep out of his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes as his feet hit the cold hardwood floor. He pads over to his dresser and pulls on a singlet before pulling out one of his thicker flannels, buttoning it up. His cargo pants and thick socks also get put on before he heads to the kitchen, where he swiftly prepares himself a tea and a bowl of oatmeal, contemplating the fruits as he chops them into the bowl.
He'd have to think about preserving them for the winter soon. There's more than enough for one man but with the summer having come to a close a little less than a week ago the harvests would start getting smaller. His gaze diverts to the window, viewing the not yet shifting colours of the leaves, visible in the serene dawn lighting. They would start changing soon enough.
He finishes his breakfast, giving the dishes a rinse before shrugging on his coat and stepping into his sturdy hiking shoes. He makes his way outside, gaze landing momentarily on the half finished woodcarving he had been working on for the last few days, before he diverts off onto one of the many paths surrounding his cabin.
Jake had been walking for a little while, pushing snapped branches off the path and listening out for any deer along the tracks, as well as just enjoying the crisp morning air as the weak rays of the rising sun filtered through the trees and created speckled patterns on the ground. As he watches the ground ahead, something shimmery catches his eye. Filled with intrigue, he approaches it, crouching down to see drops of blood littering the forest floor, reflecting the morning light. He looks around and spots some more up ahead, as well as some more broken branches along the path. Curiosity growing, he stays quiet and presses forward. If something is injured, he wouldn’t want to startle it.
He remains cautious, near silent in his approach as he continues to follow the trail, wary of where he places his feet. He starts to think he's lost the trail of whatever he is following until he hears... crying?
It almost sounded human. He stays quiet in his approach but the noise gets more distinct as he gets closer. It sounds like a man, crying in pain.
"Hello?" He calls out, hopefully loud enough that the other can hear him. His voice is gruff and quiet from disuse. The crying immediately hushes. At least, Jake thinks, that means whoever's here heard me. He continues moving through the forest, honing in on the source of the noise, which is nothing but quiet whimpers at this point. He was about to call out again when his eyes land on a man. He's lying face up on the floor, breathing in quick, heavy breaths. His arms are covered in so much blood that Jake struggles to tell where it's actually coming from. Blood has soaked into the fabric of his shirt in various spots. A backpack lies a few feet from the man, it seems to be pretty empty of any contents.
Jake moves over to the man with haste, who flinches away from him, rolling onto his side slightly so that his back is somewhat facing Jake. The man's face is pulled into a grimace. Jake crouches down beside him and the man hesitantly looks over to him, letting out a breath when he realises it's a human. Jake feels guilty for a moment, recognising that he'd startled the man with his haste.
"Sorry." He says sheepishly. "Are you alright?" He asks, not entirely sure how to approach the situation. The mans head shifts toward him and he lets out a small hum of acknowledgement, shifting to be back on his back with another grimace. So he's definitely conscious and he could hear and understand words, that is good, but he's evidently in pain. Jake takes a deep breath to try and calm himself down and figure out what to do but the smell of blood instantly hits the back of his throat. If he wasn't so accustomed to it, due to years of living out in the woods, he would have retched. "I gotta.. get you home so we can clean you up. Can you sit up?" The other nods again and Jake extends a hand out to him, helping him to sit up. He gives the man a moment to recover before he presses further. "... think you can stand?"
"Yeah" the man's voice is hoarse, but at least he can talk. He reaches to his left and blindly grabs the bag by his side, pulling it over to himself and zipping it closed. Jake silently takes it from the man, slinging it over his own shoulder before offering himself as support, helping the man to his feet. An arm is slung over Jake's shoulder and the other one grips tightly at his arm.
"Name's Jake, by the way. C'mon, I don't live far."
"M' Dwight." The other breathes out, Jake nods in acknowledgement. The man frequently stumbles as they walk and the vice grip to his arm never falters. Jake holds him up and basically supports his whole weight as they walk. He's thankful that his coat is water resistant, so at least he'll be able to wash the blood off it easily.
They continue walking for a while longer, the walk much slower than it usually would be, given Dwight's condition, but aside from fatigue he seemed to be improving, which Jake found a little peculiar, but he isn't going to complain. Walking became a lot easier as the other became more capable of supporting his own weight. The vice grip on his arm never loosens though.
Eventually they make it back to Jake's cabin and Jake quickly ushers the other inside. He places the (rather empty feeling) backpack down by the door. He then moves into the bathroom, pulling out his medkit and wetting a hand towel. When he comes back out Dwight is standing idly in the doorway, looking around with a squinted gaze. "You alright?" He asks, seeing the unreadable look on the other's face.
"Oh, uh, yeah," Dwight says, turning his head to Jake, his gaze is unfocused. "I... can't really see. I don't have my glasses." He says quietly, eyes shifting to the floor as his face grows warm. So that's what it was then.
Jake crosses the small room and moves into the kitchen space, grabbing a bucket from under the sink. He fills it with warm water and places it on the table before he leads Dwight over there.
"The cuts need to be cleaned to avoid infection." He says, watching the other nod and shift awkwardly. Jake pulls out a chair. "Sit" he instructs, and something about his tone of voice had Dwight complying without much hesitation. He pulls a chair up to Dwight so that he is sitting face to face with the other. Upon closer inspection of Dwights face, he notices a big, silvery scar running diagonally across it, from his eyebrow to under his cheekbone. He's surprised he didn’t notice it sooner. There's another by the right side of his jaw too. It seems this wasn't his first time dealing with cuts, then. Curious. Jake feels it would be rude to ask.
The other thing he can't help but notice as he sits is Dwight's eyes. They’re a light, warm brown but have a striking rim of yellow around the pupil which catches him slightly off guard. There's a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and he can picture glasses sitting on his face quite nicely. He can't help but find Dwight pretty cute.
Shrugging the thought off, he takes one of Dwight's arms and begins wiping it down with the damp towel, removing the blood and grime from the skin so that he could better deal with any cuts. It seemed like they had stopped bleeding for the most part. Dwight winces as the rag presses into his arm and as the blood gets cleaned off he also notices some mild bruising. He dunks the towel into the bucket and watches with some fascination as the water begins to turn red, methodically cleaning the dried blood from the skin. He gently wipes down the other arm as well. He notices some more old, closed scars on the man's arms as he removes the caked blood. Dwight really doesn’t look after himself, he can’t help but think.
"Got any other cuts?" Jake asks, dunking the rag back into the bucket.
"Nah, it's.. uh, it's just the arms, I think." Dwight says, looking down at all the fresh cuts that littered his already marked skin. Jake unzips the medkit and pulls out the disinfectant, setting it on the table as he stands and takes the rag and bucket to the sink. He tips out the bloodied water before rinsing out the towel until the water runs clear. He gives it a rink and pours a little of the antiseptic onto it before sitting back down and gently pressing it into one of Dwight's cuts. The other hisses slightly at the contact but doesn't flinch away. Jake continues to do this to the other cuts, thankful that the bleeding has all but stopped by now. He makes sure to press extra lightly at the spots where faint bruising is evident.
"You're.. dealing with this very well," Jake says, casting his gaze up to Dwight's face briefly before going back to the cuts.
"Hah, well, I... I've got a high pain tolerance, I guess. Plus, I've had uh, a scratch or two in the past..." he indicates to himself vaguely with a short laugh and a shrug and Jake is once again reminded of the long scar across the other's face, as well as the many lining his arms. He hums in acknowledgement.
"So... what happened?" Jake asks with hesitance, gaze not travelling up from the scrapes as he speaks.
"I.. uh..." he looks up briefly to see Dwight's face has flushed, "came for a walk but lost my glasses, so I... tripped." Dwight explains, his voice is quiet and his fingers drum idly at his thighs as his foot taps the floor. Jake isn't convinced that's the whole story but he doesn’t press further, after all it wasn't his business.
"Lucky you didn't get attacked by a wolf, they were out last night." Jake comments, finishing up with the last few scrapes. "Kept me up all night."
Dwight lets out an awkward laugh and shifts in his seat. "Hahah, y-yeah I guess. I'm never usually lucky..." he shifts again and his left hand comes up to rub at his neck and shoulder.
Jake sits back and places the hand towel on the table, screwing the lid back onto the disinfectant and packing it away into the medkit. "D'you wanna shower? I can get you some clean clothes." Dwight hesitates for a brief moment before nodding, avoiding eye contact as if Jake wasn't the one that offered. "Alright. I'll dress the bigger cuts afterwards." Jake says, standing and placing the rag in the sink before walking off to the bedroom to pull out some clothes for Dwight to put on.
When Jake exits the room he notices Dwight stifle a yawn and he wonders how much sleep the other had gotten during the night. He wonders what exactly he was doing out here too, but Jake didn't find it his place to pry, so he holds off on asking. "Here." Dwight stands up and Jake hands him the change of clothes.
"How.. blind are you?" Jake asks after a moment, trying to gauge what the extent of help Dwight needed was. Dwight's gaze diverts from Jake and his face goes warm.
"Oh I’m really blind. I... I'm gonna be honest, I don't really know what you look like. Like, I can see you, but there's no details or anything. Your uh, your hair's black and your coat's dark green, and I know your eyes are dark from when you cleaned the cuts before but that's about it." Dwight lets out a nervous laugh and Jake nods thoughtfully.
"Must be scary, out in the woods. Good thing I found you." Jake mutters, more to himself than anything.
"Y-yeah.. my car wasn't too far s-so I... I would have been okay but I... I do really appreciate the help." The sincerity of the statement catches Jake off guard.
"It's no problem." Jake says, before turning off to the bathroom. "C'mon." He steps into the small room filled only with the bare essentials. Dwight steps in awkwardly after him and sets the clothes down by the sink. "This tap's hot, this one's cold. Don't be too long, hot water runs out pretty quick." Jake explains briefly, pointing to the taps as he lists them. He sees Dwight nod and hears him utter a thank you before he steps out of the room, pulling the door shut.
He smirks to himself a little when he hears a yelp from the bathroom, Dwight presumably getting splashed by the cold water. He heads back into the kitchen space and pulls out the bread loaf from it's box, cutting off two slices from the homemade loaf and taking a jar of jam from the fridge. He spreads some onto one of the slices before sitting back at the table and turning his head toward the window. It feels weird having someone else in his house after it had just been him for so long. He shrugs the feeling off however, knowing it's only a temporary thing.
Dwight exits the bathroom dressed in the clothes Jake had handed him, carrying his old, blood soaked ones in his hands. The clothes fit him surprisingly well, they seem big around the shoulders but other than that the two seemed to be similar in height and size. Jake finishes his bread as Dwight exits the bathroom, which, admittedly, he was eating rather slowly. He finishes chewing the last bit in his mouth, watching as Dwight stifles another yawn before he stands up to dig out a plastic bag for the guy, finding one with some difficultly. He walks over to Dwight and hands him the bag, who thanks him as he drops the dirty clothes in. He ties off the bag and drops it into his backpack.
"Want some bread?" Jake says, indicating to the loaf when Dwight turns back around.
"Oh, uh, are you sure? I don't want to waste any-" another yawn cuts off his sentence temporarily, "sorry, any more of your resources..." Dwight says, looking away sheepishly.
"Eh, need to make another loaf anyway." Jake says with a shrug, turning back to the loaf. Dwight follows behind and sits back down at the table. "Jam?" Jake asks, holding up the jar.
"Oh, uh, yes please." Dwight's almost excessive use of manners makes Jake smile a little to himself, but his face is quickly wiped neutral as he turns to hand Dwight the bread. "Thank you." The other says, accepting the slice. Jake watches silently as the other essentially inhales the piece and he turns to cut another, offering it to Dwight without a word. Dwight took it gratefully and eats it with a bit more reserve this time.
"This is really good, thank you." Dwight says around a mouthful of bread.
"No problem." Jake says, filling a pot and turning on the stove. "Want a drink?" He pulls a mug down from a rack and drops the tea strainer from the morning into the heating water.
"Oh, um, just- just some water, thanks." Jake grabs down a glass and fills it with some of the cold water from the fridge buzzing in the corner of the kitchen and hands it to Dwight, who nods in thanks. When the water finishes boiling, Jake switches off the stove and pours himself a mug, coming to sit back down across from Dwight and flipping open the medkit. He pulls out the dressings and Dwight wordlessly offers Jake his arm, who inspects it briefly before applying the dressings to a few of the deeper, longer cuts.
"I should.. I should probably head off after this, huh?" Dwight says, eyes flitting to the door.
"You got something on?" Jake asks. There's no bite in the sentence, just curiosity.
"Oh, well... no, but I live pretty far, and I'm sure you have something to do so I should stop bothering you." Dwight shifts in his seat and rubs his eyes.
"If you live far you should rest before you leave. Not safe to drive while tired." Jake states, standing from his seat to place the mug and glass into the sink.
"Oh I really don't want to impose anymore! It's okay-" Dwight rushes to say but Jake shakes his head to dismiss him.
"It's alright. I've got stuff to do in the garden. Just come and get me when you’re ready to go." His voice is light but his face is stern and it leaves Dwight with no room to argue. With that, Jake heads out, closing the door behind him. He steps out onto the pathing in front of his house and is about to walk around to the side when a crow flies down from a nearby tree to land at his feet. He smiles and squats down to the squawking creature, scratching it's head gently. He pulls out some of the crust from the earlier bread from his pocket, chucking it to the bird, which caws happily. "You always know when I'm eating lunch, huh?" Jake says to the crow, which looks up at him briefly before going back to pecking at the bread. He runs his fingers over the chest of the creature and smiles softly before standing back up and heading over to the half formed chair by the side of the house, pulling on his thick gloves before getting back to work.