Work Text:
Trying not to make a sound, Veronica crept down the stairs. She thought she heard a quiet knock at the door. It sounded like that specific signal JD used when he climbed through her window. Strange that he chose the door this time, but... They'd fought a day ago, and maybe he brought flowers to make amends?
Pff... Boys. Always thinking a few flowers are enough to earn forgiveness.
A step creaked loudly under her foot. Freezing, she glanced at her parents' door. Luckily, they hadn't woken up. Veronica exhaled and continued down.
The knock came again from the bottom floor, noticeably louder and more impatient this time. Cursing under her breath, Veronica practically flew down the remaining steps, rushed to the door, and pressed her eye to the peephole.
It was JD indeed. Though no bouquet. He was wearing just a shirt, despite the snow outside. Frowning, she decisively swung the door open.
"What happ... Oh God!" Veronica gasped in fear, clapping a hand over her mouth.
"Ronnie." He stepped inside, staring at her with wild eyes. Thick blood dripped from his nose onto his shirt, but he didn't seem to even notice. "I think I..."
Veronica cut him off in a loud whisper.
"Are you okay? Your whole face is covered in blood. And your hands!"
"It's nothing." He hurriedly tried to wipe the blood with his sleeve, only smearing it worse. "Listen, Ronnie. This is important!"
She nodded silently, not taking her anxious eyes off him.
"I think I killed him," a terrifying smile spread across JD's face. "Killed him!"
"Who?" Veronica asked, then her eyes widened in realization. "Wait... You killed your father?"
"Yeah. I killed him." He suddenly broke into dry, hysterical laughter.
Veronica shushed him, glancing nervously at the stairs. Her parents definitely shouldn't see him! Especially like this.
"Get inside. Quickly. And keep your voice down!"
"Okay, okay." Shuffling his feet, JD stumbled toward the living room. Veronica peeked outside and looked around. Luckily, the street was empty. No patrol cars.
Satisfied it was quiet, she closed the door and hurried after JD.
He stood in the center of the room, looking around confusedly.
"Hey, why aren't you sitting?" She stepped closer and cautiously touched his arm.
JD flinched and spun around sharply.
"Fuck, Ronnie... Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Shh. My parents might wake up," she shushed again, never stopping her anxious inspection of him. "Sit down. You can barely stand..."
"Don't want to get blood everywhere." JD jerked his head and, sniffing, tried to wipe the blood again. Uselessly. Some of the blood on his face had already dried and cracked, and those cracks were quickly filling with new, bright red.
"Fine." Veronica didn't argue, knowing she couldn't win against him in this state. "Just tell me what happened."
She carefully took his hand. It was cold and stiff. Veronica stole a look at his knuckles: they were beaten raw. As expected.
"I think I killed my father. I... I don't remember exactly." He spoke abruptly and dryly, like he was barking. His fingers were visibly trembling. "We argued. I pushed him to get past. He... I think he grabbed me by the throat..."
JD rubbed his neck. Veronica looked closer: bruises were already beginning to bloom under the skin.
"We started fighting. Everything... Everything's like a fog." He frowned and rubbed his face, turning it completely into a bloody mask. "I think in the end I pushed him down the stairs. He stayed lying on the floor, and I ran. That's bad, right?"
"We'll figure something out. I think they call it heat of passion," Veronica cupped his face with her hands and made him lean down. Usually light, almost transparent eyes now looked black, his pupils were so dilated. Blood was oozing not just from his nose, but seemingly from a split lip too. She carefully brushed the sweat-damp bangs from his forehead and bit her lip tensely. The skin on his temple was lacerated, and the wound looked pretty bad. "We need to stop the blood. How long have you been walking like this?"
"Don't remember. I just walked the streets until I came to. I really don't remember almost anything." JD pressed his hot cheek to her palm. He started shaking with violent tremors. Beads of sweat appeared above his lip. "I only remember wanting to get to you."
"JD, please, sit on the couch. You look terrible," Veronica begged, nervously biting her lips.
"Don't worry. It's been worse... I'm fine, just need to come around." With a quiet sigh, he swayed forward, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his forehead on her shoulder. "Fuck, my head hurts so bad..."
Veronica exhaled loudly and wrapped her arms around his neck. JD smelled unpleasantly of metal.
"Don't be so stubborn," she whispered quietly, shaking the remnants of melted snow from his hair.
He didn't answer, only went limp harder. His hands slipped from her waist and hung lifelessly. Frowning, Veronica called him cautiously: "JD? Hey?"
He silently tried to straighten up, but instead swiftly collapsed onto her. She struggled to keep him from falling.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck... Wait, I'll call an ambulance!" Her voice trembled with fear.
"No ambulance. Just dizzy," JD mumbled, again unsuccessfully trying to straighten up. "It'll pass."
"I doubt it." Veronica tried to move him, but he was too heavy and tall. "God, why are you so damn huge..."
"Mm, sorry... I'll try to shrink... But later. Head hurts for now."
Veronica couldn't hold back a nervous chuckle.
"Idiot. Come on..." She cautiously pushed him toward the couch, but he managed only one unsteady step before heavily sinking to the floor.
Veronica barely managed to catch his head before it hit the floor. Sighing, she sat on the floor beside him and laid his head in her lap. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm down and gather her thoughts.
Seems they couldn't handle this alone... She'd have to risk it.
Drawing air into her lungs, Veronica called out loudly: "Mom! Dad!"
A minute later, lights flicked on in her parents' room, and quick footsteps sounded on the stairs. Her mother rushed into the living room first, tying her robe as she walked.
"What happened?" she asked anxiously, then her gaze fell on JD lying on the floor. "And who is this?"
"It's JD," Veronica looked at her helplessly. "He... he got into trouble."
Mrs. Sawyer sighed and shook her head disapprovingly.
"I told you not to date him. Good boys don't get into these kinds of messes," she looked sternly at her eye-rolling daughter. "And does he have a normal name?"
"Jason," she muttered irritated.
"Get up. Let's move Jason to the couch. William, where are you?"
"I'm here, here..." father chuckled awkwardly, entering the room and, under his wife's ironic gaze, placing the shotgun he'd brought from the bedroom on the armchair. "I'll help now."
Together they easily carried the still-unconscious JD to the couch. Mrs. Sawyer stepped away briefly and returned from the kitchen with a wet towel.
She pushed her daughter aside and began gently wiping the blood from his face, frowning as she examined the wounds.
"On the temple too," Veronica prompted, sitting down beside them and mechanically taking JD's hand.
"Who beat him up like this?" Mrs. Sawyer threw a suspicious glance at her daughter. "Is he in some kind of gang?"
Veronica hesitated before answering:
"He managed to say he argued with his father..."
"Are you sure? What father would do this to his child?"
She shrugged helplessly. The answer "his" hung in the air.
"Veronica, these are very serious accusations," father approached silently. "Have you ever seen this happen?"
"I only saw the beginning," Veronica swallowed and, glancing guiltily at JD, squeezed his hand. He would not be happy when he found out she'd told her parents everything. But right now they needed an adult on his side.
Especially if he really had killed his father...
Shaking her head, she continued decisively:
"JD usually tried to send me away when Bud came home. But the next day he always had bruises. And sometimes he wouldn't show up at school for a long time."
"I see..."father exhaled through his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And why didn't you tell us?"
"JD didn't want anyone to know."
There was a knock at the door again — loud and demanding. Veronica gripped JD tightly. Had the police found him already? How? What now... Her throat went dry.
"Dad, I need to tell you something," she began in a trembling voice, but the knocking interrupted her again. The door shook from the blows.
"Later, honey," father grabbed the shotgun and, approaching the door, looked through the peephole. Then, releasing the safety, under Veronica's anxious gaze, he opened the door.
"Who are you? And what the fuck are you doing banging on my house at the midnight?"
Veronica had never heard her father this angry before.
"That worthless bastard here?" a familiar voice growled in response.
Looks like JD was wrong. It was his father's voice. And, unfortunately, still alive.
Scuffling sounds came from the hallway. Mrs. Sawyer rose decisively from the couch, gesturing for her daughter to stay put.
A bulky figure appeared in the doorway.
"I'll ask again, what the hell are you doing here?" Mr. Sawyer firmly blocked his path, not letting him push into the living room.
"Knew he'd show up at his whore's place," the bloodshot eyes fixed on Veronica. She flinched and instinctively leaned down, covering the lying JD with her body.
"Hey, you're talking about my daughter!" Metal rang in Mr. Sawyer's voice.
Bud shifted his gaze to him and, pulling himself together, suddenly answered amicably:
"That's my son. I'll take him, and we'll leave," he jerked, trying to go around him, but Father sharply blocked his path again.
"You better leave right now. Without Jason."
As if on cue, JD chose that exact moment to wake up. He groaned quietly, clutching his temples with his hands, still too disoriented to understand what was happening.
"The police are already on their way. They'll sort it out," Mr. Sawyer said firmly, gripping the shotgun.
"I said..." Bud's tone changed again, becoming threatening.
"I heard," Mr.Sawyer raised the shotgun, aiming it at his chest. "But you better clean out your ears. I'll repeat one last time: Get. Out. Of. My. House."
"Jason! Stop pretending," Bud growled, ignoring the gun pointed at him. "With me. Now!"
For a moment, dead silence hung in the living room. Then JD began reluctantly to rise from the couch.
"You're staying here," Mrs. Sawyer suddenly stopped him, holding him by the shoulder. Tense silence hung in the air.
Finally, Bud couldn't take it.
"Fuck you," he spat blood on the threshold. "I'm leaving! You deal with this damn bastard yourselves. He's your problem now."
And, without looking back, he left the house, slamming the door.
Mr. Sawyer slowly lowered the shotgun.
"What an asshole," he exhaled quietly, not taking his eyes off the door.
Veronica stared at him in surprise: this was the first time she'd heard swearing from her father.
"Honey," closing the door on two locks, father returned to the living room, "call George. I think we'll need his help."
"He's the family lawyer," Veronica explained softly to the still slightly disoriented JD. He was shifting his confused gaze from Mrs. Sawyer to Mr. Sawyer. "Everything will be okay."
"I don't understand," he looked at Veronica uncertainly. "I can stay here?"
"I think so," Mr. Sawyer cleared his throat and threw a questioning glance at his wife.
"Of course, you can stay. Subject to certain rules," Mrs. Sawyer began sternly, but then suddenly softened. "But first you need to come around. I've already called the doctor, he'll examine you."
"I'm fine. Really. It's not... just a small fight. Nothing like that," JD involuntarily flinched. He clearly felt out of place.
"And did these 'small fights' happen often?" Mrs. Sawyer looked carefully at the bruise darkening on his neck.
"Not really..." JD shrugged gloomily. "Well, when I behaved."
"And what happened this time?" Mrs. Sawyer continued the interrogation.
Veronica silently squeezed JD's hand in hers. He was breathing strangely: too fast and jaggedly, as if he couldn't get enough air.
"I didn't want to leave," he finally answered quietly. "Before he'd just give me a couple of punches, I'd stop rebelling and go pack. Understood I couldn't handle him. But now I'm older. Stronger. He didn't expect me to try to fight back. Though I still didn't have enough strength..."
He licked his lips and, smiling gloomily, added:
"Should've just quietly slipped out when he fell asleep. Or maybe even ki... Ow!"
Veronica sharply poked him in the side and made scary eyes. He winced in pain, fell silent, and pressed his hand to his ribs.
Mrs. Sawyer frowned:
"Hard to breathe?"
"What?" JD looked up at her.
"Is it hard for you to breathe?" she repeated patiently.
"A little," he involuntarily rubbed his ribs. "But nothing serious."
"I decide what's serious and what isn't," Mrs. Sawyer cut him off sternly. "Lie on your back and don't get up until the doctor arrives."
"But..."
"No buts. You might have a crack or even broken ribs."
"I have no money to pay the doctor," JD squeezed out quietly, with obvious shame in his voice.
"Son, we won't go broke," Mr. Sawyer came closer and carefully patted his shoulder. "Lie down. The doctor and police will arrive now. George will help arrange temporary guardianship."
"Guardianship?" JD jumped up again and for some reason looked at Veronica embarrassed. "And that doesn't...?"
"Temporary guardianship," Mr. Sawyer sat in the armchair opposite, chuckling quietly, and placed the shotgun beside him. "And it won't make you and Veronica relatives, if that's what you're asking."
"William!" Mrs. Sawyer threw up her hands.
Veronica lit up like a match and looked indignantly at her father, then at JD. His ears were blazing fire too.
"Thanks," he muttered embarrassedly, carefully lying down on the couch and wincing from pain. "I won't be a burden, I promise."
"First you need to recover and come around. We'll think about everything else tomorrow," Mrs. Sawyer calmed him, looking at him with unexpected sympathy. "Let me make everyone some tea."
"I'll help," Veronica squeezed JD's palm one more time and stood up.
He followed them with his eyes and turned to Mr. Sawyer.
"I can shovel snow. And cook," he began listing, "also know my way around cars, can change oil and..."
"Stop! Stop," Mr. Sawyer interrupted him. "Jason, of course, you'll have chores while you live in this house. But as Trish said, there'll be time to think about that later. Tell me, do you like our daughter?"
"Very," he blinked, puzzled by the abrupt change of topic.
"She clearly like you too. But if you decide to hurt her..." he nodded meaningfully at the shotgun still standing nearby. "Understood?"
"Veronica is the best thing that's happened in my life," JD objected hotly, rising on his elbow. "I'd never hurt her!"
"I believe you. But I was obliged to warn you," Mr. Sawyer smiled reassuringly. "Lie down, don't get up. Our ladies will be back soon and will nag us."
JD, clearing his throat, glanced at the kitchen and hastily lay down.
Veronica followed Mrs. Sawyer into the kitchen and went to the cupboard, taking out mugs: one more than usual. She felt her mother's disapproving gaze on her back.
"Mom," turning around, she began. "I know you don't approve of him..."
"Are you sure he's worth it?" Mother cut her off sharply. "Dangerous guys can be attractive. And when they're wounded, they become doubly attractive. But let them hide their dark sides well, later it hits those nearby very painfully."
"He didn't appeal to me for that. Well, at first maybe... but that quickly changed into something else," Veronica pushed the sugar bowl closer and began mindlessly pouring sugar into the mug. "He doesn't hide his bad sides, mom. And I don't have to hide mine around him. And I know dating him might be hard, but... didn't you say everyone has a dark side?"
"Suppose."
"So, I know him. He's not bad, just... traumatized."
"And you're sure you can handle all his traumas?" Mother raised her eyebrows mockingly.
"I'm sure that for me he'll want to handle his own. He's trying..."
Mrs. Sawyer sighed and threw up her hands.
"You've always been too grown-up. Fine. It's your choice, and I'll support it either way," she frowned, looking at the mug. "Are you sure he can drink this? There's half the sugar bowl in there, no less."
"Trust me, he can," Veronica giggled, finally putting the spoon down. "Shall we go back?"
When they entered the living room, silence reigned. Veronica and Mrs. Sawyer exchanged an understanding glance: seems like not only they had an important conversation.
"I made you the sweetest tea I could," Veronica handed JD the mug.
"This is more like sugar with tea than the other way around," Mrs. Sawyer sat in the armchair next to her husband.
"Perfect," JD took a careful sip and broke into a smile. "Thanks."