Work Text:
March had always hated working late. Normally he would be off by at least 5PM but apparently so many people had issues that he was doing paperwork until 10PM.
Looking out the window of his office, he remembered why he hated being at work this late. Sure the building was warm but it was December and there was snow on the ground.
It's cold, slippery and March can't see shit outside. The most he can see is the flakes of snow rushing past the window and anything under the street lights. While normally LA stayed pretty warm, even during winter, this winter was especially bad.
Grabbing his jacket and rushing down the stairs, March had one task in mind: Get home to Holly and Healy. It's cold and they are probably wondering where he is by now.
As March gazed out the front door, he wondered if he should run to his car, but then the cold air would be rushing against his face faster.
He pushed open the door, the cold metal handle chilling his hand and started walking to his car, the only one in the parking lot as the snow crushed beneath his feet.
Despite for warmth of any kind, he quickly unlocked the car before jamming his keys into the ignition and started the engine to get some heat, any heat in the car.
“Jesus I hate the cold.” he muttered to himself as he closed the door and sat in the driver seat, lighting a cigarette as the car slowly gained more warmth.
March, almost falling asleep in the driver seat, remembered he needed to get home so he shot up, bucked his seatbelt and put the car into first gear to start making his way home.
Nothing was ever good on the radio at this hour so he left it off and chose to listen to the hum of the engine. Weary of his every move due to the weather, March drove more carefully.
As he turned away from the brightly lit city streets and onto the only street with minimal lighting on his way home he figured everything should be fine.
“Just turn right up here and that's our neighborhood.” March muttered to himself as he sped up a slight amount.
Flicking his turn signal on, he spun the wheel to the right. After completing the turn, or so he thought he sped up only to realize he must have hit a patch of ice. Before March could slam on the brakes, he turned to the right, realizing at the same moment he saw headlights coming towards him that he was sideways in the road.
“Shit shit COME ON.” March yelled trying to get out of his position, then there was the noise of shattering glass.
…
“Hey Jack?” Holly called while putting a hoodie over her sleep shirt.
“Yeah?” Healy responded.
“Where's dad?” Holly asked as she walked out of her bedroom and into the living room.
“Probably working late. Why do you ask?” Healy questioned as he put out the fire that was keeping the living room warm. God was he glad he agreed with March's idea for a functioning fireplace.
“Well it's 10:30 and he's not home yet. I know he doesn't like working this late. I guess I'm just worried.” She replied as Healy walked over to her.
“Is that my sweatshirt?” He asked, grabbing the hood of it.
Holly chuckled before responding “Yeah.” With a proud smile on her face.
“Alright to bed with you. Holland is gonna kill me if he realizes I let you be up this late on a school night.” Healy replied as he nudged Holly back towards her room.
“Jack, winter break starts soon and we're not even doing anything tomorrow.” Holly laughed as she went into her room. “Goodnight.” She said as he poked her head out the doorframe before closing it.
“Goodnight Holly.” Healy said as his mind began to wander. March really did hate working late but he figured he was just being paranoid and that March was already on his way home.
Healy made sure to lock the doors and flick the living room lights off before retiring to the bedroom for the night.
…
Pain. March opened his eyes and the first thing he felt was pain. The second thing was terror because he was upside-down in a ditch.
“What the… where am I?” March asked himself as he moved his hands across his dashboard only to be scraped by the glass that was there. “Fuck”
March's head rang as he fumbled around for the seatbelt buckle to hopefully free himself. Looking up he saw that the windshield was completely shattered.
“Yeah I don't think this one is fixable.” March mumbled as he freed himself from his seat, grabbed his keys, and crawled out the shattered windshield, scraping his hands up more on the loose glass.
The car that hit him was nowhere to be seen but looking at his wreck of a car in the snow, March remembered he had to get home. He down glanced at his watch.
10:45
“oh shit.” March whispered as he quickly ran across the street and down the road he was trying to turn on before the accident. “Oh shit they are gonna think I went out. I didn't go out. I've been sober for months!” He told himself as he ran.
With his house in sight March finally slowed down to catch his breath. 10:51.
Looking down at his watch March finally got a good look at himself in the faint reflection he saw. His hair was all messed up, his nose was bleeding from both nostrils and there were cuts over his nose and under his right eye from the glass. Not to mention every cut on hands.
“Holland you look like a mess.” He told himself before continuing to his home.
Making it up to the front door he stuck his key in to unlock it and he slowly crept into the silence of his own home.
The living room was dark, every light was off and March let out a sigh of relief that there was nobody awake in the house.
Loosening his tie, March continued through the house as quietly as possible. Making his way to the bedroom where Healy was asleep on their bed.
As much as he tried to avoid every floor board that squeaked or creaked he managed to hit one that sounded so loud it seemed like it rang throughout the house.
Quickly freezing in place like a criminal caught in the act, March looked to see if he had woken up Healy.
Grateful for the fact that it looked like Healy was still asleep, he quickly grabbed his change of clothes from off a chair and scurried into the bathroom.
After quickly changing into more comfortable clothes than a full suit that was now slightly cut up and covered in his own blood and glass shards he found the first aid kit and snuck out into the living room just to be extra sure he wouldn't bother anyone with the light.
“They really shouldn't see me like this.” March muttered as he sat on the floor with his back against the couch and the open first aid kit on the floor.
Investigating his own hands he found a few shards of glass still stuck in his knuckles so he grabbed the tweezers and as gently as he could pulled them out.
As his heart rate increased so did the flow of blood coming from literally every open wound on him and he had to stop removing the glass just to catch his breath and make sure he didn't get blood all over the floor.
While he was catching his breath and using a roll of paper towel to clean up some of the blood on his hands, March heard footsteps down the hall. Terrified, he removed the rest of the glass and started disinfecting his hands.
“Holland?”
March looked up panicked only to see Healy standing in the hallway putting his glasses on.
March sat in silence as he then continued disinfecting his hand, wincing at the sting of the alcohol.
“March? What the hell happened!?” Healy said, finally getting his glasses on and rushing over to March.
“Nothimg important.” March replied as calmly as he could while still disinfecting his hand.
“Fuck you mean nothing important!? Ok, come here.” Healy responded, joining March on the floor and turning March towards himself.
“Youre warm. Did you just get out of bed Jack? Go back to bed.” March tried to say before Healy grabbed his chin, bringing March closer to Healy's face.
“Yeah that's not happening Holland.” Healy replied as he examined March's face that was covered in cuts and blood. “So you probably broke your nose. And we need to get the glass out your cheek like now. Where's the tweezers?” Healy asked as March instinctively grabbed them to give to him.
As Healy removed the shard of glass from March cheek a small amount of blood trickled down.
“Ok towel and disinfectant.” Healy ordered as March gave him a towel from the first aid kit and slid over the rubbing alcohol.
The sudden cold feeling of rubbing alcohol and the stinging in his cheek made March jump and then incredibly fidgety.
“Sit still dumbass.” Healy quietly said as he dabbed the towel on the wound.
“Ok sorry it stings asshole.” March replied as he tried to sit still. He opted to make mini nose plugs from gauze in hopes that his nose would stop bleeding.
As Healy started to clean up and bandage March the room fell silent as his warm hands would graze against March's face when putting on a new bandage.
After plugging his nose and putting wound closure strips onto March's cheek and a bandage over the bridge of his nose Healy started to ask questions.
“So what happened?” He asked as he wrapped bandages around Marches palms and knuckles
“Look, I need you to believe me.” March replied urgently.
“Why wouldn't I believe you?” Healy asked, stopping for a moment to look up at March, he had that panicked look in his eyes, the look that meant he felt like he messed up. “Did you go out for a drink?”
“NO! I-I mean no. I didn't.” March stuttered, already feeling awful for yelling. “I didn't go drinking. I was driving home at 10:30 and as I was turning down the street. I hit a patch of ice then someone coming down the street hit me, next thing I knew I was upside-down in a ditch.”
Looking up at Healy, he had a confused expression on his face as he processed March's story.
March, taking the expression as disbelief brought his knees to his chest and rested his forehead on his knees. Without even realizing it he was shaking and something was running down his face, tears.
“Hey wait, don't cry. Holl-” Healy started before March put his hand up.
“Don't. I-I already know you don't believe me.” He sniffled as he cried more.
He was scared. He knew Healy wouldn't believe him. Why should he? But he really didn't go drinking. He hadn't had a drink in months.
March quietly rocked himself back and forth while his hand still remained bleeding.
Healy gently took March's unbanaged hand, wrapped it up and brought March into his arms.
“I do believe you. You know that, right?” Healy asked as he held March in his arms.
“How can you be sure?” March asked as he picked his head up, leaning it back into Healy's chest. “Its easier to believe the recovering alcoholic got drunk and did this to himself.”
“I believe you because if you were drunk, you would have been much louder coming inside and you wouldn't have even stopped to change your clothes or try to patch yourself up.” Healy said as he ran one of his hands through March's hair. “I believe you Holland. I just need you to believe me.”
March had stopped shaking when he heard the words “I believe you”
March proceeded to take out the small nose plugs he made from gauze and blow his nose on a nearby paper towel which afterwards held a mix of snot and blood. Well mostly blood.
Making two more little nose plugs and putting them back in, March allowed himself to sink into Healy's arms which were so warm and comforting that March managed to mumble a “thank you” before drifting to sleep right there on the floor, in his arms.
Healy gently took March and laid him on the couch and brought out a blanket and pillow from their bed. He placed March's head on the pillow and laid the blanket over him before packing up the first aid kit and heading back to bed like March had originally requested.
The next day March woke up on the couch with a blanket and pillow. He didn't remember falling asleep but as he picked his head up he remembered last night was very real.
As he turned to rest his feet on the floor and his head on the back of the couch he recalled what happened last night. Car crash, blood, Healy, crying.
Getting up from the couch, March decided to get himself a cup of coffee so hopefully he could wake himself up a bit and apologize to Healy about last night.
As he reached for his favorite mug, one that cheerfully said “have a nice day!” But on the bottom had a middle finger, he heard quiet footsteps coming down the hall.
Holly emerged from the hallway, with her favorite blanket draped over her shoulders and one of Healy's sweatshirts falling down to her knees.
She rubbed her eyes and looked up as March calmly said “Good morning Holly.”
“DAD WHAT HAPPENED!?” She asked frantically as she looked at her father's face. “You’re covered in bandages and stuff!”
“Don’t say and stuff, just say ‘Dad, you're covered in bandages'” March replied, pouring his coffee into the mug.
“Not the point! What happened!?” Holly pressed as March finished pouring his coffee and let out a deep sigh.
“Holly, I need you to believe me.” March started as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly. “Last night I was filing paperwork late. On my way home I hit a patch of ice, spun out and then someone else hit me. Next thing I knew I was upside-down in a ditch.”
“Believable.” Holly said as he started to rummage through the fridge for a Yoo-Hoo.
March, confused, took a sip of coffee and asked “Holly, you sure?”
“Well yeah. If you were drunk you would probably be on the floor right now, or throwing up in the bathroom. That fact that you're not in yesterday's clothes is the key giveaway that you didn't get drunk.” Holly replied, shaking the glass bottle.
“Really?” March asked, looking at Holly.
“Yeah. I thought it was kinda obvious you were serious about quitting.” Holly said as she opened the bottle and took a drink.
“See I told you.” Healy said as he as well came down the hall and into the kitchen. “You really didn't have anything to be worried about.” he continued as he wrapped his arms around Marches waist.
March, feeling the sudden warmth of Healy's arms, sank into his chest once again, but this time his eyes stayed dry.
“Thank you guys. Thank you for believing me.” March said as he embraced Healy's warmth.
“Its not difficult to believe what is believable, and what the truth is.” Healy replied as Holly nodded along.
“Jack is gonna take me to school today so why don't you go back to sleep dad? You look like you need it.” Holly suggested as she finished her Yoo-Hoo and headed to her room to get ready for the day.
“Yeah I like the sound of that.” March replied, forgetting how tired he actually was.
March pulled himself up from Healy's arms, managing to snatch a kiss along the way, grabbed the blanket and pillow from the couch and headed back to their room.
Laying down, March instinctively grabbed Healy's pillow and squeezed it, taking in the warmth and scent he remembered how much Healy really did care for him, as he calmly drifted to sleep.