Work Text:
Driver could feel the excitement practically steaming off of Lars’s body. They stood in line at the bank, waiting their turn on a surprisingly busy Friday morning. Lars was typically an exceedingly patient man.
Not today.
Today he was depositing the last pay stub necessary to reach their goal for a much needed island vacation getaway. Lars had done most of the planning. There were spreadsheets, whiteboards, and folders full of information scattered throughout their house. He had budgeted, organized, and planned every detail down to the last grain of sand. It’s not that Driver didn’t help him, he did. Driver’s job was to agree with him and consistently mention how lucky he was to have such an organized and thoughtful partner.
He was very good at his job.
It would be Lars’s first time somewhere tropical. Wisconsin got warm in the summers but it was hardly balmy. Driver couldn’t wait to show him his first beach. Lars had shared with him so many things he’d never experienced before, and while the island Lars had his eyes set on for vacation wasn’t “home”, it was at least familiar. Driver grew up surrounded by beaches. He knew what to expect, what to bring, what to look forward to. The thought of showing Lars a piece of that familiarity made his heart swell. He couldn’t remember the last time he truly got to enjoy a beach, but he had a feeling they’d be a lot better standing next to Lars anyways.
He lost focus on reality for a few moments as he thought about the look on Lars’s face when he saw turquoise waves pushing themselves to shore for the first time. What would he say about his first tropical sunset? He always had the perfect thing to say. He could listen to Lars talk forever. Now, he was pretty confident that Lars would hate sand with a burning passion, but there were always ways around that. Hell, if he had to carry him around, so be it…
A shriek followed by a gunshot ripped him out of his daydream. His head whipped to the entrance as the small part of the ceiling that was shot fell quietly to the ground. A man in a motorcycle helmet was shaking a pistol in his right hand, screaming for people to–
“Get on the ground! Right fuckin’ now!”
Something snapped within him, a gate that had been locked for a long time had just been blown wide open. Lars was frozen next to him. Thankfully they were in the line the furthest from the door, which gave them a few more seconds to themselves.
Driver reached back for Lars’s body and managed to push him back towards the wall, using his own body to shield him. When he felt Lars made contact with the wall, he pulled his murderous eyes away from the shooter and turned towards Lars instead. The look on Lars’s face was a knife to the heart; Driver had never been stabbed like this before. Lars was beyond terrified. His body shook so hard his joints had locked up, elbows stuck in a flexed position, half holding himself, half frozen. He was blinking and his mouth quivered but no words were coming out.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. I got you,” Driver’s voice was impossibly soft for the situation. It was smooth, hardly a waver.
Lars sucked in a breath before muttering out, “G-get on the ground.”
He began to slowly sink against the wall, but Driver kept him steady, gripping his arms with gloved hands.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Lars began to shake his head in protest, “Lars, baby, do you trust me?”
Lars was so tense Driver wasn’t sure he was breathing. He shook his head once more.
“N-no, no, get on the ground. He- he said to- you- we- need to get on the ground. Just get–”
“Hey!” the man with the gun shouted in their direction.
Lars’s knees nearly gave out, but Driver guided him gently to a sitting position, back against the wall.
“You’re gonna be okay,” he promised.
When Driver went to stand, Lars gripped onto his arms like his life depended on it.
He shook his head again, “No, no, please, please get on the ground,” his voice broke now as tears finally spilled onto his cheeks.
Driver thought about killing this guy for doing this to Lars. He grit his teeth, flashes of all the ways he could overpower the shooter flipped through his mind's eye. It was taking everything he had to stay calm.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Driver whispered, beginning to pull his hands away. Lars latched on again, managing to keep him close for a few more seconds.
“No! Don’t leave me,” he pleaded, “You can’t leave me, please. Get-” he choked out another sob, “get on the ground. Please–”
Driver blinked, briefly snapping out of his rage for long enough to consider listening to Lars and just getting on the ground.
But it was too late.
Loud footsteps from boots on tile made their way closer as the man’s irritated voice bellowed out again.
“Hey! What the fuck is going on over here?! I said to get on the–”
The second Driver felt the man was within range, he spun back, grabbing the man’s wrist that was holding the gun and sweeping his legs out from underneath him. The shooter hit the ground with a hard smack. He groaned, clutching his chest from getting the wind knocked out of him. Driver, now with a newly acquired handgun, checked the chamber for bullets before kneeling on the man’s abdomen. He still had the man’s wrist in his gloved hand, pulling it forwards to lock out his elbow, pinning him so he couldn’t move away. The man screamed out in pain.
“Wait! Wait…”
Driver lifted the man’s helmet screen so their eyes could meet properly and the two fell silent. Driver’s eyes were angry, as cold as the cool metal of the loaded pistol, which felt a little too good in his hands at the moment.
He pulled back the hammer and the sound of the cocked gun reverberated off the stone walls as everyone fell deathly silent.
If it were any other man he probably would have shot him already.
“Wait! Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t know–”
“One more word and I’ll shoot you.”
“No, really! You have to believe me, I didn’t know you were–”
A shot rang out, followed by a guttural scream.
“Fuck! Fuck! You shot me in the fucking leg, you– fuck!”
Driver released his grip on the man’s arm and stood up, his knee no longer pinning him to the floor.
“Get out of here,” he muttered. He thought that was generous enough. Besides, he was now holding the gun that had his brother’s fingerprints on it. Well, used to have his brother’s fingerprints on it. They’d all been obstructed or wiped by now.
They were even.
Luke stood up on one leg, blood dripping crimson all over the white tile floor. He limped his way to the door. No one dared to stop him.
Driver couldn’t take his eyes off of his back as he hobbled towards the entrance. Guilt, fear, and regret crawled up his throat, but he pushed them back down. He would deal with that later. Right now, he had more important things to check on.
Once the doors closed and the shooter was no longer in sight, a wary applause sprang up around Driver. A chorus of “thank yous” and “wow, you’re either really brave or really stupid!” enveloped him along with a few claps on the back, but he ignored them on his way back to Lars. He was still sitting with his back against the wall where he had left him.
“Lars? Hey, Lars?” he took him by the shoulder, shaking him slightly to snap him out of it, but Lars’s eyes were vacant, his skin pale.
“Hey, Lars, look at me.”
Tears brimmed on his lower lids at those words. He shook his head, wiping his eyes hard with the ends of his sweater gripped in his fist.
“I just need to know if you’re alright.”
“Mm-fine,” he pushed out, a flash of anger in his eyes.
The palest shade of pink began to return to his cheeks.
That was a good sign.
Lars used Driver’s shoulders to stand up, avoiding his eyes. He just wanted to leave. Once he was out of there, he’d be okay. He just needed to go home. He took his first real breath in what seemed like hours but was hardly minutes, and as he took a step towards the door, pushing past his partner, the room spun around him. He barely had time to register the feeling of the hard, cold tile on his cheek before his vision went black. He stayed conscious for a few more seconds, imobile. He floated for just a moment. He could hear the sound of his clothes being pulled on, maybe even his body being moved, but for these few rare seconds, Lars couldn’t feel anything. He let the peaceful feeling swallow him up, letting go. The last thing he heard before everything went quiet was Driver screaming his name.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lars woke to the sound of whispers, his eyelids heavy. He tried to open them but it took more effort than it was worth. He tried to relax as his body slowly then suddenly informed him of all the textures and temperatures that were touching his skin. The bed under him was a cheap material, the kind that looked soft to the naked eye but wasn’t. He easily hit the disguised harder surface underneath it. His pillow lacked substance, fluffy yet unsupportive. He recognized the weight of a blanket over his legs, but the fabric was wrong. It was thin and scratchy.
He wasn’t home.
He debated if he could fall back asleep, afraid of opening his eyes and taking in the LED bulbs he knew would surround him. He could nearly see the silver sheen they emitted through his lids already. He picked at the blanket underneath his hand, but instead of grounding him it instead alerted him to the fact that there were very uncomfortable cords clinging to his skin. They pulled the hair on his arm, and when he went to move it, his elbow twinged in pain. He begged his mind to go back to sleep, knowing once he opened his eyes there was no going back. His arm moved across the blanket slowly, searching for a familiar hand but finding only fabric.
He just wanted to go home.
“--sorry, Cindy, I’ll call you back,” it was Karin’s voice, “Lars? Lars, sweetie, are you up?”
He blinked his eyes open, tears forming for too many reasons to ascribe blame to.
He swallowed, putting on a fake, soft smile.
“Oh, sweetheart, how are you feeling?” her voice was low, eyes kind.
“I’m fine,” his voice was thick, unused, “What happened? Where’s– Can I go home?”
She stuttered around the different questions before saying, “You hit your head a bit when you passed out,” she looked concerned but attempted to remain cheerful, “doctors want to monitor you for just a little longer.”
“But I can go home?”
“Well, not right now, they need to monitor you here.”
Lars’s head was spinning. He used the hand that wasn’t hooked up to the beeping machines to wipe the disappointment off his face, letting it run through his longer mustache hairs under his nose, feeling their familiar texture while closing his eyes.
“Driver?”
She avoided his eye contact for once, “He’s not here, sweetie, he’s at the police station. But I’m sure he’ll be out in a jiffy and–”
A shadow passed over Lars, his vision tunneling as she spoke, “He what?” he interrupted, “But that doesn’t…it wasn’t his fault that – he was a hero,” his shining eyes looked up at her, lost.
“We know, Lars, it’s the talk of the town, I’m sure they know–”
“He’s a hero! He was protecting me!”
“Lars, please calm down, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned…you need your rest, please.”
Lars’s skin was on fire, electricity shooting up his spine and out his fingertips with every ragged breath. He went to hold his temples and lean over to breathe easier, but the cords around his arm and elbow got in the way. They hurt. It was all too much. He needed them off. He needed to be home.
He needed Driver.
He tore at the medical bandages keeping the cords in place, wincing as the plastic IV tube was pulled out of his arm. Once he removed the pulse oximeter from his finger, all of the alarms started going off around him, making everything far worse. Karin tried to stop him but realized fairly quickly that she was no match alone, resorting to running out of the room for help instead. Lars looked away from the small trail of blood that had started to leak from his inner elbow due to the haphazardly removed IV. His hands started to shake. He grabbed a nearby cotton bud from a jar on the counter by the sink and placed it on his elbow until the bleeding stopped. He closed his eyes, keeping pressure on his inner elbow while using his palms to push on his temple. Instead of meeting skin, they met a soft, pliable bandage.
Everything was wrong.
Panic, fear, and confusion sweat out of him as he attempted to dress himself in his nearby clothes, previously folded in Karin’s tote bag on a chair by the door. Several buttons were misaligned, but he was no longer in a hospital gown and that was all that mattered. Besides a slight stinging in his elbow still, he felt nearly comfortable in his own skin after being in familiar, safe clothes again. His arms hugged each other, wrapping around his middle as he walked out of the room. Once he saw Driver again, he’d feel better. He’d be able to relax.
He’d feel like himself.
He rounded the corner, nearly running straight into a frantic Gus. He tried to stop Lars but despite being older, Lars was much stronger.
And there was nothing he could do once Lars set his mind on something.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Driver spent a few hours being questioned. The police were friendlier than the kind he was used to, likely less experienced due to location alone, but clearly still suspicious.
They had every right to be.
If it was any other town, Driver would have been out of there before they arrived, assuming too many connections could be made between him, Luke, and previous illegal events. But Driver couldn’t leave Lars. Lars was his home. There was nowhere else for him to go.
So there he sat, voluntarily, on the other side of a steel table, telling the officers for the hundredth time that day that no he did not know the assailant, and yes he had martial art training, no he’d never used it before, he guessed it came back naturally from lessons when he was a kid, yes he agreed that was lucky, no he does not condone violence, and yes, of course he assumed the man wouldn’t be able to get away if he was nonfatally shot in the leg…
After a few hours of questioning, an officer in charge, who was quite obviously listening on the other side of the fake mirror the entire time, entered the room. He sighed, announcing that the assault was in self-defense and that he was free to go. Driver heard him mutter to the other officers that the town had already hailed him a hero as he exited the interrogation room and made his way down the hall towards the exit.
Driver’s gut was in knots, his skin itched where sweat clung to his cotton shirt. People talking always made him nervous. As far as Driver was concerned, there was no such thing as good press. Enough people looking at him meant exposure, and exposure was dangerous. Especially for–
“Lars?!” Driver’s head snapped towards the man’s direction, stepping out into the sunlight as he left the small, one-story police station.
Lars was getting out of his car, his forehead bandaged and clothes in disarray.
“Lars!” Driver ran the 50 feet or so necessary to catch up to him, enveloping him in the biggest hug he could manage the second he was within arms reach. Lars clung to him tightly, his strong arms not giving any indication that they were going to let him go any time soon. The past few hours of anxiety melted away, quickly being replaced by a warmth that permeated throughout his whole body. They held each other and time stood still. Driver buried his head between Lars’s shoulder and chin, nuzzling into his neck. He breathed in the familiar smell of their laundry detergent, a woody fragrance that he could only describe as ‘Lars’, and, unusually, the undisputed smell of the brand of gummy candies that Sebastian was addicted to. He pulled his head away, unsure when he had started to cry, to get a good look at Lars’s face. He tore his hands away from Lars’s side and back, but Lars took them in his hands almost instantly, placing them on either side of his face instead.
Lars closed his eyes at the feeling of Driver’s hands on his face, breathing hard.
Driver knew what he needed and started rubbing Lars’s cheeks with his thumbs. Lars got this way when he needed grounding. It wasn’t often he sought out touch, but they’d both learned that once he developed enough trust, sometimes he just needed to be held. It was familiar now. It was safe.
“What in the world are you doing down here, shouldn’t you be resting?”
Lars shook his head, “Needed to see you. Karin said you were at the police station and I thought…” his voice trailed off, still confused.
Driver shook his head slowly, still gently rubbing circles on Lars’s cheeks with his thumbs, the pads of his other fingers now massaging the back of his neck, “It was nothing, just getting a statement from me about what happened, that’s all.”
“You’re free to go?” hope filled Lars’s eyes.
Driver nodded with a soft smile before his eyes got serious again, “Are you okay?” Driver couldn’t manage anything over a whisper, guilt eating at his vocal cords.
Lars nodded, “I’m fine! Thanks to you,” Lars’s eyes twinkled at him as he let himself smile.
Driver’s heart sank, remembering what he’d done. He shook his head.
“No, no I put you in danger. You were right, I should have just complied. I was just…I was so angry when he threatened you, I- I… I never…,” Driver looked away from him, finding his shoes and the nearby bushes suddenly far more interesting than what he was going to say.
“It’s okay,” Lars said cheerfully, sensing his discomfort.
“It’s not okay,” Driver’s eyes were swimming, “I never wanted you to see that side of me.”
They were quiet for a moment, a nearby cardinal taking the opportunity to announce that it was in fact very handsome and also very much ready to find a mate.
“That’s stupid,” Lars said flatly.
“What?” Driver thought he misheard.
“I said that’s stupid. We show each other everything, even parts we don’t like about ourselves. You see my rough parts all the time, and I hate it, but that’s the way it has to be,” his voice was getting angrier now, “You shouldn’t hide anything from me. Besides, I already knew. I know you, Driver. Whether you like it or not. You are protective, and strong, and brave, and foolhardy, and kind, and funny, and selfless, and loyal, and yes sometimes you are very stupid,” Driver tried to hide his amusement at that while Lars continued, “ But you are good. And despite what you may think, you are actually very bad at hiding any of that. Just because you’re quiet doesn’t mean you’re mysterious,” Lars stated, matter of factly. He nodded his head as if to say there would be no more discussion on the matter.
“Okay,” Driver said in acceptance, not sure how he deserved a man like Lars Lindstrom.
The screeching of tires broke them from each other’s arms, each turning to watch as a rusted sedan pulled into the police station parking lot. Gus jumped out of the car, the keys rattling in his hands as Karin helped Sebastian out of his booster seat.
“Lars! Get in the car now.”
Driver looked from Gus to Lars, a brow raised.
Lars shook his head, taking a step towards Driver out of habit when he was uncomfortable.
Gus marched towards Lars, clearly agitated.
“I’m fine! Look.”
“You,” Gus nearly rolled his eyes, “you are not fine, you have not been cleared to leave.”
Driver looked at Lars, but he wouldn’t make eye contact any longer.
Tension grew thick between them, so Karin yelled out a, “Hi, Driver, you doing okay? They didn’t give you a hard time did they?”
“No, ma’am, I’m just fine, thank you,” he blinked at her, smiling, until he noticed Sebastian’s tear-stained cheeks trying to hide behind his mother’s leg.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Driver rubbed Lars’s arms supportively before leaving Lars and his brother to talk, walking towards their nephew.
Sebastian hid behind both her legs now, avoiding him.
“Hey, come here,” he held his arms out and Sebastian hesitated before tearing up again and giving in, letting out a small cry and stepping towards Driver with his arms raised for him to pick him up.
“Sshhh,” Driver repeated while bouncing him on his hip until the toddler calmed down, eventually leaning his head against Driver’s shoulder.
“Now, are you gonna tell me what the matter is?”
Sebastian turned his head the other way, choosing to look at the brick wall instead of anyone else. This seemed to run in the family.
“Uncle Lars got hurt and ran away,” he muttered before a hiccup.
“Aw, well he’s right here, it’s okay.”
Sebastian rubbed his head on Driver’s shoulder, he was pretty sure he’d have snot on it after he put the kid down. He rubbed his back, trying to comfort him any way he could.
“And mommy and daddy were yelling at each other in the car,” he confessed, more confident now that someone was giving him attention.
Karin gave Driver a sympathetic look.
“I see. You know sometimes when you love someone a lot, like how mommy, daddy, and Uncle Driver love Uncle Lars a lot, you get angry about it.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he huffed.
“Mmm, well then, I think that makes you the smartest out of all of us. Definitely smarter than me. I get angry all the time. And it never helps. But I still do it.”
“Uncle Driver’s silly,” Sebastian stated as a fact.
Karin smiled.
Driver noticed the flinches from Sebastian as Lars and Gus began to argue. He and Karin exchanged a look and she nearly reached out for Sebastian but Driver turned towards his car instead.
“Here, you wanna sit in the front seat?”
Sebastian’s eyes went wide, “Really?” his voice was still wet with tears so Driver snuck in a short kiss to his cheek.
“Really.”
He opened the passenger door, placing Sebastian on the old leather seat but leaving the door open. He leaned in, fiddling with the keys until the car roared to life. Sebastian squealed, kicking his feet that barely made it off the seat itself. Driver couldn’t help the smile that took over his face. Not knowing to do with all the joy, he winked at the kid and booped his nose until he was giggling again. He adjusted the radio until jazz rang out clearly from the speakers.
“Ooh!” Sebastian cooed.
“You like that?” Driver asked.
Sebastian nodded, staring intently at the old radio, wonder in his eyes.
“You stay here with your mom, alright? I’m gonna talk to Uncle Lars for a minute, okay?”
Sebastian nodded, not listening to him anymore, eyes still transfixed on the speakers. Driver noticed his small fingers reaching out, feeling the netted texture of the speakers and humming at the vibration coming from the physical touch of the music. When he turned back Karin was smiling.
Things were going to be okay.
He moved out of the way so Karin could come sit with Swsaebastian instead.
“I’ll take him,” Driver spoke up, interrupting Gus and Lars’s argument.
“What?” Lars sounded betrayed.
“Really, Driver? That would be great.”
Gus and Driver shared a look, Gus nodded as he understood that Driver wouldn’t ever put Lars’s health in danger. It had taken a few years to grow that trust, and Driver wasn’t going to break it now.
Gus stepped back, hearing Karin laughing at something Sebastian had said.
“Driver, please, I’m fine,” his voice was beginning to break.
“I know, and I believe you.”
“Then let’s go home.”
Driver shook his head, “We need to check first. It’ll be fast, I promise.”
Lars took his hands off of Driver and held himself again, “You know I hate hospitals,” he whispered, betrayal now in his voice too, “You know it reminds me of…”
There were many things it reminded Lars of, and none of them were very pleasant. Driver also knew that on top of an emotional toll, the hospital was not exactly Lars’s favorite sensory environment, but sometimes life wasn’t about favorites, and they both knew that.
“I know,” Driver was whispering too, “but I’m not dropping you off to live there,” Driver tried to get a smile out of him, but it didn’t work.
“We’ll get a quick check up, and then be on our way in no time. I’ll be by your side the whole time. And I’ll make sure the lights are off whenever you want them off.”
Lars pouted, his eyes nearing a glare that he would regret later once he was back home.
“And, when we get home I’ll make soup?” It was worth a shot.
Lars perked up, “Really?”
“I promise. And I already called off work tomorrow so we can spend the whole day being lazy in bed.”
“You never get Saturdays off,” Lars was in disbelief, being the best mechanic in a midwestern town was a bit of a curse.
“Yeah well, benefits of being stupid. Turns out if you shoot someone in the leg you get one Saturday off.”
“Okay,” Lars said flatly, unamused. Driver missed his smile already.
“Yeah? Deal?”
Lars nodded.
“Oh, and I’m really sorry,” Driver whispered again.
Lars huffed, “We already went over this–”
“No, not about that – well, I am sorry about that, but I meant sorry for getting your nephew hooked on jazz.”
“Why?” confusion clear on his face as he looked at Sebastian in the car before staring at Driver again.
“Nevermind, I’ll get you a good pair of headphones, you won’t hear a thing.”
“I like jazz!” Lars stated, his protruding bottom lip slightly offended, “I…jazz is fine!”
Driver shook his head with a smile, “You like professional jazz..but I have a feeling Seb is getting a drumset for Christmas this year, and considering he only just developed knees, I can’t imagine it’s going to start off all that…smooth,” amusement hung on his voice.
Lars froze, realization setting in.
“How um…well, maybe we can go today? You know, after the hospital.”
Driver looked at him, a brow raised. Lars simply hovered his hands around his ears, gesturing.
“You know…a better headset? Just in case.”
It was only May, but Driver didn’t care. He leaned forwards, kissing Lars just below the thin white bandage over his forehead.
“Of course, love. Now let’s go. The sooner we get there the sooner we can go home.”
Lars sighed in relief.
“And thank god for that.”