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The bridge glowed with the flicker of streetlamps, the only lights there were since the sun had long-since set. Houston was actually a decent city at night, and just because someone lacked a car didn’t mean they couldn’t be part of it, Dave justified as he walked down the streets. He’d brought only his phone, it’d been awhile since he’d got any decent shots, and the sky was clear enough after the week of rain to guarantee a break to that streak.
It was warm, unsurprisingly, and not late enough that some of the shadier parts of town weren’t as illicit as they were known for being, (not that he couldn’t have handled himself if things got too hot to handle) so he crossed to the bridge to the other side of the neighborhood, allowing himself all the time in the world.
But as he walked, a figure on the bridge’s edge became clearer and clearer, and silently as he could (which was pretty silent because like, fuckin’ ninja up in here) he approached.
A step closer.
Messy black hair framed the figure’s glasses.
Another.
He was young, no older than Dave
Another.
Fuck.
It was Egbert.
Breath hitching in his throat, Dave walked to the railing, his feet seeming to fight him with every step. He didn’t want to get there and confirm his suspicious, because there was no way it was him, right?
Right?
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he grabbed the boy’s wrist as tight as he could. “Egbert?”
Bridge boy turned around, and sure enough, familiar blue eyes looked up, flooded with tears. At the sight of Dave, they widened, getting even bigger than they usually were, and overflowed with fear, shock, and even what looked like embarrassment. Neither said anything, though in John’s case, it wasn’t exactly voluntary.
He was in disbelief. Egbert, all goof and smiles Egbert. Of all the people in school, he expected him to be here least of all, and he struggled to find words through the constant birage of No running through his mind.
“Egbert, don’t do this.” His voice broke. He didn’t care.
Wind blew through John’s hair, bringing it in front of his face just as he lowered it. A shake of the head was still visible though.
A series of tiny gasps announced he was crying again, and he flailed his free wrist back toward the city. Go, go.
“Yeah, not happening. Come down and maybe I’ll consider it.”
He jerked his arm, trying to free it from Dave’s grasp, but Dave hung on like a vice. No fuckin’ way. John attempted to look up again, mouth open like he would say something if he could. Though there probably was a lot he’d say if he could.
“In fact…” Still gripping the wrist, Dave hopped up next to him on the railing, taking care to leave one foot behind the safety bar. “Think I’ll hang out here for awhile.”
The waters seem to roar below, singing a swan song to the only ones around to listen. The rocks couldn’t be seen in the darkness, but the two silently knew they were there, jagged and sturdy and unapologetic. Dave spent maybe half a second thinking about how John would look, falling down into them, lost forever, before realizing his grip on the kid’s wrist wasn’t solely for his friend’s sake.
For what felt like hours, the two sat quiet, only the river’s cries and the cars’ haze to fill the silence. While John hadn’t made any further indication he wanted Dave’s company, he hadn’t repeated his request for him to leave. And, the blonde noted with a mental nod, at least for now, he hadn’t jumped.
Gradually, John’s ragged breath seemed to slow a bit. His dangling head seemed to rise a bit, and for the first time he seemed to look at the blonde with anything other than contempt, wondering as usual what he was thinking behind the stupid sunglasses. Unseen, Dave looked back. He cleared his throat.
“If I give you my phone, you can’t jump with it, okay?”
It took a minute before he could answer, but Dave waited, patient and stoic as ever. It was one of the first things John had noticed when they met, and one of the reasons they were friends at all. (Were they friends? He wondered. Probably not. Friendly, then.) He nodded, and was passed the precious phone. It came with it an air of reverence; this was one of his most prized possessions, and John meant it, that he’d keep it safe. It was one promise he could keep. He put in the password (of course he knew it) and opened up the notes. Before he could type even a word though, Dave put his head up a little.
“Is it the kids at school, giving you crap? ‘Cause I’ll tell ‘em to step the fuck off.”
John gave a headshake and a scoff. If only Dave’s “cool” friends were the worst of his problems.
He started typing.
Why are you here?
Dave shot him a rather vicious seriously? look.
“Because I don’t want you to die, obviously.” His voice warbled at “die”. John said nothing.
But why do you care? We don’t even talk that much
At that, he gave a dry laugh. “You’re my friend, stupid.” The ‘stupid’ somehow didn’t sting like it did from everyone else. “You’re like, the coolest person I know.”
A note wasn’t even necessary. John raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him.
“Yeah sure, it’s like your particular cool, John-brand cool, not like the usual grocery-store bullshit, but it still counts. Like, maybe not everyone’s buyin’ it or whatever, but you have your goobery enthusiasm just sitting on the shelf in its off-brand package doing its thing, y’know?”
John glanced over at him, and realized it was the first time he’d ever called him by his first name. And all to make a lame metaphor about food. Figured.
Ok but a reason that isn’t completely idiotic
There was a thoughtful pause. “Because I like you.” The words were solemn, far more than anything John had ever heard from him before. “And you don’t deserve,” He waved his hand around, “Whatever this is.”
LIAR. He’s LYING.
The words screamed in his head, deafening compared to Dave’s, and John couldn’t even tell if they were his own or his dad’s anymore. It almost didn’t matter. He hoped the other didn’t notice how clenched his fists were.
“Besides,” It appeared not. “Without you around, who am I supposed to dissect frogs with, huh?” That got a laugh out of him. Or at least, a smile and a little spasm, which was what counted as laughter for John.
Dude, just ask Terezi. She’s been trying to be your lab partner like, all year
It was Dave’s turn for laughter. “Are you actually suggesting I get anywhere near her when she has a knife? Like, is that what I’m hearing right now?” That was fair, John decided, shrugging, and if it weren’t for his circumstance, he may have grinned.
Somehow Dave always did this, and though it had been three years since they’d met, John still couldn’t figure out how it always happened. Around Dave, he felt normal for the first time in his life. Not only because of the not-talking thing, though not a day went by where he wasn’t amazed at just how okay and cool he was with that, but for a few minutes, the worst of Dave’s problems, girls, friends, stupid drama, were the worst of his problems too. It was minutes like this that he lived for.
But they were nothing more than minutes, brief glimmers of reflection on the broken glass that comprised his short miserable existence. At least until tonight when it would finally be over. Tears starting to well up again, he lifted the phone.
I’m not gonna telling you why I’m here
It didn’t really give Dave a lot to work with, but hey, that was practically how he’d made it that far in life anyway. “Whatever it is, it’s temporary, y’know? Like, something you can end, or use your big nerd brain to get out of.”
The loud rush of the river still accompanied everything he said, reminding Dave to keep the teasing light for once or else.
I am. was the reply. I’m ending it tonight
“Okay, not what I meant, and you know it. Maybe you can, uh…” John was typing frantically again, and even though it gave Dave enough time to keep talking, he’d long-since stopped out of courtesy. Just because the dude couldn’t physically interrupt him didn’t mean shouldn’t have the right, or whatever.
It’s not something you can fix.
With all the words in his vocabulary, Dave couldn’t think of an adequate response. He meant the mutism thing, right? Had to be that. “Talking’s overrated.”
Not because of that It was… true enough. True as he was willing to reveal to anyone tonight, and tonight was the last time he’d have to worry about something like that.
“Is it…”
His typing was hasty. Stop guessing! He was not some game for Dave Strider to win, and he tried his best to shoot the blonde a look.
“One more.”
John kept glaring.
“One more!”
Then, an exhasperated nod.
“Is it….” He put a slender finger to his lips in mock-thought. “Because you realized that Matt McConoughey is a terrible actor and you’ve wasted the past six years of your life obsessing over him?”
John’s glare was back, but it was joined by a smile he was trying very hard to hide, though even in the dark and behind Strider’s shades, it seemed to almost glow. “That’s it, isn’t it? Don’t lie, Egbert.” A nod and a heavy eye-roll.
You got me!
Dave laughed under his breath, almost silent, yet still more than John could get out, to his chagrin. Everyone in school knew Dave-motherfucking-Strider, czar of nonchalance, did not laugh, didn’t even crack a grin at how amusing any of his classmates were probably failing to be on any given day. As far as John knew, the only person who could make him emote in any way was, well, John. It was one of the few things he had to be proud of.
And for a second, he almost forgot his dad, and almost forgot why he was here. For a second, it was him and Dave, his friend despite everything, hanging out and laughing at stupid jokes without a care in the world. …But he didn’t deserve that, or Dave, or any of this. All he deserved was to be about 30 feet under the bridge in the river, and then nowhere at all.
Just then, he snapped out of it as the silence broke. “So… where you goin’ to college?” It was so awkward and forced he would have jumped right then just to end the conversation, but he still held that stupid phone. He clung to it, having to be careful not to break it with the strength of his grip.
Don’t know
A nod. “Apparently a ton of shit changes in college. You can be like, a whole new person, y’know? And no one needs to know about what you did beforehand, ‘cause it ain’t none of their fuckin’ business. Like, sure, you don’t talk, but no one knows why. For all they know you coulda been the hottest of shit back home, grade-A badass material. ‘John Egbert? Well shit, he’s so cool he don’t need words.’”
The thought was just too foreign, not just the bits about people liking him, but the thought of college? It hadn’t even come up at home, and even though he was sure his dad wanted him as far away from him as possible, the idea of escape, of getting to leave, was not one the old man would let him live with, he was sure. Anything after graduation just seemed… blank, as if his life faded into the static at the end of old VHS tapes when they ran too long. No plans, no opportunities, just… fuzz. The pathetic and miserable movie of his life ended right here, tonight. Not that he could explain any of this, even if he’d had the words.
I know what you’re trying to do.
“Me? I’m not trying anything, and honestly, I’m offended you’d even suspect me of such heinousness.” A pause. “But it doesn’t sound that bad, y’know? High school doesn’t last forever, John.”
The tears came harder, falling off his cheeks and down to join the icy waters rushing below them.
Every day he was told to go upstairs without a word, praying that the closest thing to “family” he had wouldn’t burst through his bedroom door with a bottle full of whiskey and a mouth full of slurred insults. Every day was met with people who didn’t know, and didn’t care, who ignored him as if he was dead already.
And Dave Strider was worried about high school.
I’m not gonna make it long enough to find out either way He didn’t have proof, but John could just tell his life expectancy wasn’t long. Whether it was at the hand of himself or his father, it didn’t matter, just that it was inevitable.
Wait what? Dave felt his breathing get heavy. The kid didn’t deserve a fraction of this shit. “What the hell you mean? You sick or something?”
Yeah
He was solemn. They both were. John typed in the background as his friend lowered his head to his hands. “…Fuck.”
Sick of all of your questions! >:B
The groan was so loud it practically echoed against the lapping below. “Dude!” And John didn’t laugh, because of course John couldn’t laugh, but he knew the asshole long enough to know that’s exactly what he was doing in his head. “Not cool, goobery or otherwise!”
Not cool though it was, it lightened the mood, more than anything else had that night, and as their chatter lulled John felt… almost relaxed, almost safe, at least enough to open up a bit.
I already left a note for my dad.
Shit. He was absolutely serious about this.
I’m not going home
“So he’ll… probably be even more excited to see you! Probably already has the cops cruisin’ the whole city, looking for ya.” He got a phone shoved in his face as a result, message unchanged.
I’m not going home
“You… need a place to stay?”
John looked up at him, blue eyes rapt in disbelief. Moving out seemed to be the answer to almost everything, to maybe live to see tomorrow and want to see the day after that. It was too good to be true.
You don’t have to do that.
“And yet, here I am, doing it. Fuckin’ scandalous, I tell ya.”
It’s a lot easier if I don’t bother you
He stared out across the river, expression far too wistful for Dave to be cool with. This had already gone one way too long, and if there was a time to make a move, he reasoned, it was now.
“Dude.” A hand gripped John’s shoulder, digging in a little more than was necessary. “Climb down. Please.” It wasn’t a lifeline, or the only anchor holding him down, or anything stupid like that, but it was a comfort, a gesture. He couldn’t remember if Dave had ever touched him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had, with kindness anyway.
It was hard to say what it was, the break in his friend’s voice, maybe, but John allowed himself, unabashedly, for once, to free the tears that had been barely building around the corners of his eyes. His sobs came out in choking gasps, and he didn’t care who heard them this time. Trembling was not accurate, his wiry frame seemed to full-on shake as the feelings he’d dulled most of the night, even before Dave showed up, came flooding out, running down his face and into the ominous depths so far below them. It wasn’t even that anything was suddenly worse, but like everything suddenly was. Having someone here, someone normal, or at least relatively so, put everything in perspective, not just what he’d been through, but what he was about to. For a second, it didn’t feel so much like the escape he’d dreamed it was.
None of these thoughts ran through Dave’s head. All he saw was the way John curled into himself, still so perilously close to falling. It was the first time he’d ever heard him make a sound, and it would fucking figure it turned out to be one of the worst imaginable. He inched closer, unsure of what else he could do, and slid his hand across his friend’s shoulders until it was draped over his back. Never before did he feel so conscious of his movements, like even touching him too hard could send John to his death, but he couldn’t sit there ignoring him.
Still distraught, John barely registered the hand aside from some of the stress leaving his shoulders, and even though he hadn’t answered his friend’s last request, he certainly hadn’t denied it.
“Put one leg behind the bar,” Dave tried again.
It was difficult, but John managed to raise his head just a bit, as if it were being held up by a single thread, and turned ever-so-slightly to look at Dave. A nod. Reassurance. Without even knowing why, he did so, to be met with a grin. He intended to stay like that, not yet ready to just leave, but it was less than comfortable, straddling the rail like he was, especially with his friend watching. The quiet, for once, was tense.
Dave stood up, patiently waiting for him. “…Okay, other one.”
With a nod, he shut his eyes and carefully mimicked the blonde’s motions, swinging the other leg over and standing on the other side of the barrier. They stood for a few minutes in silence looking out over the river, and it seemed so much farther now, John couldn’t help but notice as wind rushed past him. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t still look inviting, and there was a part of him still screaming to jump back over the divider for good, Dave’s phone be damned, but it had quieted over the past hour, serving now as a dull roar that he was at least for now able to ignore.
“Hey, uh…” Dave raised his arms gently, the way he’d learned to do around John, wordlessly asking permission before venturing too far into his personal space. He didn’t flinch or turn away, though more out of the shock of it all than anything, leaving Dave free to wrap his arms around his slight frame.
And he gripped, head against his shoulder, heartbeat close to racing heartbeat. Truth be told, Dave was pressing too tight against several injuries that had never healed, and where the memories of getting them, memories of the man with the sharp features who had once been his father, all used to bubble up, there was wholeness, security, the thought that he’d never have to go back. He was so caught up in it that he almost forgot about the arms enveloping him, and slowly, always slowly, he raised his as well, barely letting himself touch Dave. But it was enough.
Finally, something was enough.