Chapter Text
The last place Daniel expected to be was in a bathroom stall, smoking with Johnny Lawrence.
He’d be damned if he was caught talking to the boy anywhere else, but in a bathroom stall? Who gives a shit. No one knows, the bell has already rung. The halls are void of sound.
He invited Daniel here during their last period. It was kind of sad. He towered over him, grimacing as he asked. Clearly it’s not something he wanted to do, but who knows why he asked him of all people.
Sitting on a toilet, holding a blunt, Johnny stares coldly at Daniel. His high clearly hasn’t hit him yet, but Daniel is up in the stratosphere already.
He watches as Johnny takes another drag. He moves his hand to offer Daniel some more. Daniel waves his hand dismissively, knowing that he’s already high enough.
“Shit, d’you ever think we’d be smoking here together?” Daniel asks instead, his voice echoing in the stained bathroom stall.
Johnny rolls his eyes, “Of course not.”
Silence falls between the two again. Daniel swallows nervously as he kicks his backpack. It’s laying next to the toilet, where Johnny impatiently peers at him. Shit, maybe he should talk again.
“Okay… well, why did you drag me here?” Daniel crosses his arms, “Thought you’d, and I quote, ‘Need to know where to put my body after you’re finished with it’.”
The tension in the air is stifling as Johnny blows out hot smoke into Daniel’s face, amused by Daniel’s scowl that follows.
“Nah, give me a minute,” Johnny closes his eyes, trying to relish in the feeling his nearing high gives him. He ends up leaning farther back on the toilet seat, resting his head on the back wall.
Daniel’s restless as he waits for any response. He cracks his knuckles after the lack of an answer and awkwardly leans against the stall door. No guy invites another guy to smoke if they’re enemies. It just doesn’t happen, at least, not for no reason.
“Y’know, I can go. I don’t need any more reminders as to why you’d love to shove my face into that wall. I kinda wanna go home, yeah?” Daniel murmurs as Johnny’s eyebrows draw closer and closer together higher on his forehead.
“I don’t invite random twerps to smoke with me if I just wanted to threaten them. I’d do that anywhere,” Johnny sighs, “Besides, don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”
Daniel growls as Johnny’s chest rumbles with quiet laughter. All of the shit the guy puts him through, and he still can’t be straight with him? He can’t stand this guy.
“Okay I’m just gonna leave then,” Daniel leans forward to grab his backpack- until a hand encircles his wrist. He refuses to look up, even though he can feel two eye sized holes being burnt into the top of his head.
Johnny doesn’t move, just firmly holds Daniel’s arm in place as if he’s trying to keep an animal under control. Daniel’s not a goddamn animal, he’s high as shit, but he’s 100% chill.
“There's no way you’re leaving looking as wrecked as you are.”
His voice is bleeding out honesty that Daniel refuses to acknowledge. He tries to muster up the strength to fight him, but the motivation leaves as quickly as it comes. It’s the weed’s fault.
“Look, I don’t want to talk like a pussy with you, but it’s been rough for me lately too. Obviously for different reasons, but… Bobby and everyone else is out sick or skipping today and I really needed someone here to uh,” Johnny’s grip tightens on Daniel’s wrist, “Ground me.”
Daniel frowns, “Poor old Johnny Lawrence needs someone to listen to his problems? Take a hike. I have no reason to help you when you make my life a living hell.”
Not something he should have said, Daniel quickly realizes. He’s yanked up and slammed into the stall wall, met by a pair of bloodshot eyes.
“Shit, I try to talk to you normally for once and you can’t even fucking listen,” Johnny fists Daniel’s shirt with the blunt in his hand. His eyes grow wide, “You and your fucking Jersey mouth, shut the fuck up and listen for once.”
And for once, he shuts up.
The two stare at each other for a painfully long time before Johnny’s grip loosens and he slumps back onto the toilet seat, dropping the blunt in the process. He covers his face with his hands, and Daniel regains his already unsteady balance.
He quietly wonders if Johnny’s actually trying to talk to him. He never seemed to be an open book, quite different from Daniel. However, Johnny seems to be really holding back the fight in him for this. He might as well listen.
“Johnny, I’m sorry man, if you wanna talk you can.”
Slow audible exhales escape Johnny’s lips before he looks at Daniel again. Looking into those crystal blue eyes breaks a part of Daniel's heart. He looks like he hurts. How had Daniel not realized?
He quietly encourages Johnny to go on, like a cheerleader (he’s glad Ali isn’t here to roll her eyes at him), before Johnny finally opens his mouth, “I can’t go home today. Sid threatened to beat my ass again. My step-dad. He says I can’t tell anyone but…”
He trails off. His eyes are unfocused, staring distantly behind Daniel. Stepping forward, Daniel sits on the cold tile floor and looks up at him. He gives him a tight smile, his eyebrows drawn in concern.
“… Sid doesn’t want me to tell anyone that he…” Johnny screws his eyes shut, shuddering. It sends shivers down Daniel’s spine. The implications are enough; He knows what happened is very serious.
Daniel gently moves to offer his hand right in front of Johnny’s. He watches him tense before his hand moves towards the older boy's hand. Daniel grabs and holds it, carefully rubbing his thumb over the blonde’s knuckles.
Scabs and scars litter his hand, only signs of hard work, he hopes.
“Daniel, he,” Johnny tightens his hand, “He caused me to go to the hospital and get stitches. He threatened me with a knife and fucking cut my back open.”
Johnny never calls him by his first name. Daniel feels sick, he can feel bile rising from his stomach.
Johnny’s eyes glisten as he chokes back a gasp. It’s like he’s shocked he even said it out loud. Had he even fully processed what happened to him before he told him?
Waves of emotions crash over Daniel. He’s never forgotten a stupid rivalry quicker than before. He’s worried. He’s disgusted with Johnny’s step-father. Most of all, he’s heartbroken. All for a guy who hides himself so well from the eyes of judgemental onlookers.
“Fuck,” Johnny whimpers as a tear escapes his eye, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Daniel can hear and feel the panic. It’s like Daniel’s built up reality crashes, awful and cruel. He carefully crafted a persona for Johnny, and he’s never been more off with his assumptions.
The floodgates have opened for Johnny, and he begins to sob.
Daniel’s eyes crinkle and his heart sinks at the sight. Johnny falls apart right in front of him, like the strings holding him together just snapped. Daniel draws closer to him and drags him into his arms.
Guarded at first, the boy is like a stone statue. It takes Johnny time to loosen up and sink into the warmth of Daniel’s embrace. Daniel rubs his shoulders, careful to not touch his back. Johnny’s tears soak through his mismatched shirt and flannel. It’s worth it, Daniel figures.
He hates this guy. He hates him so much he’ll hold him until he stops shaking, until his sobs grow quiet. He hates Johnny so much he feels the need to reassure him he’s secure and safe with him.
How does all of his previous thought process crumble at once? Was it always weak, like Daniel only wanted reasons to hate Johnny so he didn’t actually begin to think? He still doesn't want to think.
Honestly, he probably always cared. There’s a reason for everything, maybe Daniel pulled some voodoo shit and could already sense that Johnny’s not been okay, and already worried for him.
It’s not worth overthinking right now.
Instead, he tells Johnny he’s okay, he’s here and pulls his head close to his chest.
The unfinished blunt lays on the tile floor, burning a deep orange. It fizzles out in a matter of a few minutes. In that expanse of time, Daniel remains by Johnny’s side.
He does listen until his cries don’t reverb against the walls. He does comfort him.
The two also listen to the nothingness that follows. It’s awkward and stiff as Johnny retracts back into his shell, neither of them uttering anything to each other as Daniel picks himself up off the floor.
Then it’s all a blur to Daniel. Confusion and worry mixed with the feeling of floating he’s felt since the last puff that fogged up his brain.
Before Daniel even realizes it, Johnny is unlocking the stall and leaving him without a word, flinching as he steps out.