Chapter Text
It was dark, cold, and snowy and Jackie Boman was only just getting off from work. As a comic book artist he usually worked from home and handled all necessary interactions with emails. So there should be no reason for him to be out in the cold at night for something job related, right? Wrong. See, being a comic artist isn’t as lucrative as some people might assume, and while it might be enough for the most part, Jackie wanted some extra money as a safety net should anything happen. Hence his current predicament.
Normally, the owner of the small cafe that Jackie worked at, Seán, would help clean up and lock up the shop since he was usually there. However, Seán had something come up today, and since Jackie had worked at the little cafe for a couple of years now, he was the one entrusted to finish cleaning up and lock up. As it was a small business, there weren’t really many employees past Jackie and Seán, and the others that did work there had all already left at the end of their shifts. So that left Jackie to clean up by himself, which obviously meant it took him longer to clean up. By the time everything had been cleaned and put away, and Jackie ready to lock the doors, it was fairly late out. It didn’t help that with the winter months setting in, the sun had already long since set.
Jackie turns away from ‘Top of the Mornin Cafe’ with a sigh, starting the trek home as he breathes out into his hands and rubs them together, trying to warm them. He needs to start remembering to bring his gloves with him, the brunette muses to himself, because while he was warm enough between the hoodie and beanie, his hands were ice cold. He was opting to walk because he honestly didn’t live that far from the cafe, and it seemed like a waste of gas to drive or call an uber, he can handle a little cold just fine. Jackie was glad he did because he began to hear angry shouting from the alley just ahead of him, and a quiet whimpering just beneath the hollering. The comic artist would be the first to admit that he couldn’t say no to someone in need, and had gotten into his fair share of fights because he just had to play the hero. Not because he was seeking any sort of recognition or praise for his actions, but because he genuinely wanted to help people.
So when his ears picked up on the faint whimpering of distress that accompanied the shouting, Jackie knew he couldn’t just walk past without doing anything. Someone needed help! With that thought in mind, Jackie picked up his pace and turned into the alleyway, schooling his face into a stern glare which only strengthened once he took in the scene before him. There was a middle aged man screaming abuse at a figure huddled in the back corner of the alleyway, whom he couldn’t quite see clearly due to that darkness and the man standing between them. Whoever it was, they were clearly terrified as the man called them a ‘filthy mutt’ and went to kick them. Jackie knew he had to act quick before the asshole did any more damage, so he lunged forward, hoping to grab the guy before he landed the kick.
“HEY ASSHOLE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” The comic artist shouted as he grasped the man by the shoulder and yanked him back, the man stumbling backwards as his balance was disrupted. Jackie quickly took the opportunity to situate himself between the asshole and the person, who on closer inspection was a smaller, more slim built man, curled into the corner. Jackie slipped into a low stance, feet shoulder width apart and his fists raised, heart racing in his chest. He really hoped this wouldn't come to a fight, but he was perfectly capable of fending the other man off if it did. Not to say that the older man didn’t have some muscle on him, but Jackie was pretty fit for a comic artist too, since he liked to keep in shape with his home gym. He just knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Henrik if he got into another fight.
“What the fuck is it to you, kid? This is none of your business” The Asshole, as Jackie has officially dubbed him in his head, sneered once he regained his balance. The Asshole gave Jackie a glance over before snorting and rolling his eyes. “What, you gonna fight me because of a dumb mutt?”
“What is it to me?! Are you seriously going to say it’s none of my business while you torment some poor guy for no fucking reason?! The hell is wrong with you?” Jackie shoots back in disbelief, baffled that this guy seems to think that what he had been doing was perfectly acceptable. “While we’re on the topic of what the hell is wrong with you, why the hell are you calling this guy a mutt?? Not that this would be any better if he was a dog, because it wouldn’t be, but what the hell are you on about??”
“Like I said, none of your fuckin business, but if you’re really gonna try and defend that thing-” The Asshole spits with venom, and Jackie could see the smaller guy flinch from the corner of his eye. “Then be my fuckin guest, I ain’t stickin around while you get your ass mauled.” The middle aged asshole spins around on his heel and stalks out of the alleyway, grumbling all the while. Jackie was glad that the confrontation hadn’t come to physical blows, but he also was extremely confused by what the guy meant by ‘get mauled’? The comic artist turned around, crouching down as he allowed his expression to soften with concern at the still whimpering man. He couldn’t quite make out his face, it was still very dark out and the baseball cap the other was wearing really didn’t do Jackie any favors in trying to make out what the guy looked like. The whimpering did sound oddly dog-like, but the guy was scared out of his wits and probably in pain, who was Jackie to judge?
“Hey, man, are you okay?” Jackie starts to say, expression soft as he reaches out to rest a hand on the guy’s arm, both to comfort and to help him. This turns out to be a bad move as it clearly startles him, the whimpering snapping into a snarl as the man whips his head up. All of the sudden, Jackie feels teeth far too big and sharp to belong to any regular human sink into his arm as he falls onto his back, the guy that he had thought needed saving on top of him, continuing to growl. He could feel his breath seize, chest stalling in startled fright. It only lasts a few moments, but Jackie would swear that the man’s eyes were glowing. They had to be for Jackie to see them so clearly because the man’s face was still cast in a partial shadow, even though his baseball cap had fallen to the ground with his lunge at the brunette. The only other things Jackie could make out were the man’s yellow-green hair and a blood soaked corner of the man’s mouth.
Things were at a standstill, but it only lasted all of a couple of seconds before that punishing force clamping down on his forearm was being relinquished and the man was suddenly off of him. Jackie struggles to sit up, catching his breath from when it was knocked out of him as the other stumbles back, eyes wide and panicked. The next thing Jackie knows, the man lets out another whimper and bolts, shouting a stuttered apology and leaving his cap behind in his haste.
Well… that certainly just happened.
The brunette sits there, stunned for a moment, staring in the direction the other had run off before slowly getting to his feet. He shakes his head, trying to make sense of what just happened, glancing over at the baseball cap, one of only two things that proved the man had even been here. He notices that the word ‘Bro’ was emblazoned on the cap, and goes to reach for it with his right hand, wincing as the adrenaline slowly fades and he’s reminded of the pain in that arm. Jackie disregards the cap for a moment to focus on his arm instead. He can make out four distinct tears in the fabric, and consequently his arm, two on top and two on bottom, like puncture marks. That would make sense, since he was just bitten, but this was way more damage then should have been possible.
He grimaces, unsure of how he was going to explain this to well… anyone at this rate. In the end, he decides he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it and finally pushes to his feet, cradling his arm to his chest and biting his lip against the throbbing pain in the limb. Jackie knows he should probably head to the hospital or something, especially since he was bleeding a fair bit, but honestly? Jackie just wanted to go home, curl up in his nice, warm bed, and pretend this didn’t happen. He glances down once more at his arm before deciding he just needs to clean it up and it’ll be fine… Probably. At the very least until he gets home. With that, he resumes his journey home, though this time with truly no other soul out on the streets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Flash Forward ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jackie closed his apartment door with a grimace, cradling his bleeding arm to his chest, second guessing his decision to go home instead of a hospital. His wallet really couldn’t handle the trip though, and the bite wasn’t that bad, right? Maybe he should get a second opinion… Henrik should still be up, but the man was probably busy at the hospital. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to send the man a text, ask him if he believes that he needs to go to the hospital. Maybe Henrik’ll see it during his lunch break or something? It’ll have to do, because Jackie was NOT going to the hospital unless he truly has to. He knows for certain that he’ll get his fair share of very creative German curses thrown his way for his idiocy, but he’s known the man for years, it wouldn’t be anything new to him.
Jackie pushes off from where he was leaning against the front door to make his way to the bathroom. He should have a first aid kit (courtesy of zhe good doctah himself) in there, and he can wrap the wound up for now. The comic book artist winces as he pulls off the hoodie, hissing softly to himself as he tries to carefully pull the fabric from the wound. It’s not easy, what with the fabric being soaked in blood at this point and sticking to the bite, but he manages it eventually. Honestly, he’s just grateful that he runs warm enough that he can get away with wearing only a t-shirt under his hoodie despite the cold, because he would not want to have to repeat that with a long sleeve shirt. Jackie makes quick work of cleaning, disinfecting, and wrapping the wound, cursing under his breath all the while. Well, as quick as one can while using only one hand. He makes sure to fumble with his phone to take a picture of the bite before wrapping it, so he could send it in the text. Once that’s been taken care of, he packs away the first aid kit and tosses the hoodie in the trash. Between the tears in the fabric, the blood staining it, and his lack of ability in remedying either situation, Jackie knew that the hoodie wouldn’t be salvageable. At least it wasn’t one he really liked or anything.
Suddenly, a bout of sudden exhaustion swept over the young artist and he stumbled. He knew he had been tired since he left the shop, and coming down from the adrenaline from earlier certainly hadn’t helped matters, but this truly felt like it came out of nowhere. The brunette shakes his head, trying to shrug it off for a few more moments. Jackie shucks off his jeans and replaces them with more comfortable sweatpants before settling onto his bed, deciding that he wouldn’t bother with his shirt. It takes a few tries and a fair bit of fumbling but Jackie manages to shoot off a short text to Henrik about the weird encounter he had and ask what he should do with the picture attached. He doesn’t last much longer before the exhaustion is tugging on his eyelids like lead. As he settles into bed, waiting for a response from the doctor, Jackie slowly drifts to sleep.