lost_boy | (no subject)

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I didn't like any of this.

It wasn't the snow that bothered me so much, even though it was far colder than it should have been for the month of June, and it was too cold for it to be pleasant, but the lack of light. The sun was barely rising at all and not until noon, when it disappeared soon after. Sometimes, if the wind was blowing hard enough, the snow almost entirely blocked it out and it was like there was no daylight whatsoever.

I wasn't afraid of the dark. For so long I had lived on an Island with nothing but fires to guide our way after the sun slipped behind the horizon and even that had become pointless once I had learned all the paths and routes the Island had to offer. I had spent much of my life moving about in the dark and it didn't bother me. This darkness felt heavy, though. It seemed like everyone noticed. We were all more subdued than usual and the Home was quiet even when it was full of people.

Nearly everyone was spending all their waking hours in the rec room. It felt safer there, all of us gathered, and when the power went out, which it was doing every few hours, it meant it would be easier to stay warm grouped together, too.

But I felt restless. Eddie and I were sitting together, the power blessedly on for the moment, although the room was still cool from the last blackout and we were under a blanket. I was trying to read, but I couldn't focus, and so after a few moments I touched Eddie's leg under the blanket and then nodded toward the rec room door. I didn't know where I wanted to go, just that I had to get away from everyone else for a little while.

"Jamie?" one of the volunteers asked as I stood.

"I just need something to drink," I told her with a smile. "It's okay, we're just going to the kitchen."

She nodded and smiled back at us. "Can you bring some of the juice boxes back for the little ones?" She knew me well, knew I wouldn't be able to resist doing something to help the littler kids and that asking me to do so would guarantee I would come back sooner rather than later. It made me grin a little helplessly despite myself and I nodded before taking Eddie's hand.

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"It wanted to hurt you," he said hollowly, his hands reaching up to curl around Jamie's wrists. There was a worrying moment where he felt nothing at all, his ears ringing and his heart hammering in his chest, then the taunt string inside of him snapped and he let out a sound that was equal parts hysterical laughter and relieved sob.

"It was going to hurt you," he said more fiercely, because he'd known it. The look in the creature's eyes had told him everything. It wanted Jamie, not him, and it would've dragged him away somewhere. Forever.

Outside the door, there was a thundering rush of footsteps. The door banged open and two volunteers, along with one of the full time caretakers, bustled inside. There was a lot of shouting then, a lot of shrieking and worry and hands touching them both, but all Eddie could see was Jamie.

Edited 2019-06-12 14:44 (UTC)

"Stop it," I said to the volunteer who was trying to help us to our feet. "Just stop, just leave him for a minute."

I knew they were only trying to help and so I kept my voice mild, knowing that if I sounded like I was angry, they would never listen to me. They wanted what was best for us and I knew it, but sometimes they worried too much and didn't understand that a little space was needed.

The caretaker glanced at us, but then went to the window instead, beginning to the task of getting it boarded up by directing the volunteers down to the basement for supplies. Wind howled through the hole, snow billowed into the room, but I just inched myself closer to Eddie and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

"Thank you," I whispered. Tonight they would have to lock me in my room to keep me from staying with him. Tonight I wasn't sure if they would really protest.

"I'm okay," Eddie promised, his voice soft but steady as he threw his arms around Jamie's shoulders.

Frowning into Jamie's collar, he said, "We look out for each other. I wasn't going to just stand there while you got hurt."

He thought not of the clown, then, but of his mother and how it had felt to finally stand up for her. In that moment, long before he'd descended into the well beneath Neibolt, he'd known that he would do anything to protect his friends.

Anything to protect the people he loved.

"We do," I agreed, then smiled and wiped more blood from Eddie's cheek. "We look out for each other."

For so long it had felt as if I was the only one who ever looked out for anyone. I had to keep Peter from doing anything too foolish, I had to look out for the other boys, for Charlie, and while I knew they cared for me and would have even fought the monster, they wouldn't have done it for me. They would have done it for the fight. For the adventure.

This felt so much better.

"You two need to get cleaned up," one of the volunteers said and I looked up at her and nodded. Eddie's cheek was bleeding and I knew my calf still was as well, but I didn't want them to separate us.

"We'll go up to the bathroom," I answered, then slowly got to my feet and held my hands out to Eddie. "We'll be okay."

They looked ready to argue, but something held them back. Maybe it was Jamie's calm, his steady authority, which made him sound older than he was. Or, at least older than he looked.

Sometimes it hit Eddie that Jamie really was older. Old, old. He'd spent all those years on the island, and maybe his body hadn't aged, but his mind had to have, at least a little. So, while they were on even ground for most things, there were moments, especially in crisis, where Jamie spoke like a leader. Even more so than Bill Denbrough, who'd seemed more like a grownup than most of their parents, even when they were elementary school.

Eddie nodded, taking Jamie's hand and hauling himself unsteadily to his feet, and before the staff could rethink their permissiveness, Eddie herded Jamie out the door and into the hall, the two of them shuffling clumsily in the direction of the stairs.

"You probably need stitches," Eddie whispered, "I'll kill stuff, but I'm not doing that."

He'd killed something. Really killed it. He wondered if he should've felt guilty or at least conflicted. Mostly, he felt a little woozy, and really, really glad Jamie was okay.

For some reason, probably the adrenaline that was only now beginning to wear off, I found myself giggling softly. My calf was throbbing in time with my pulse and I didn't know whether or not I really would need stitches, but it was unreasonably funny to me that that's where Eddie drew the line.

"We'll clean it up and look at it first," I said as we helped each other up the stairs and into the shared restroom with the showers and sinks. I had to undo my jeans and peel them down carefully, avoiding the long slashes up the length of my calf, but when I twisted to get a better look at them they turned out not to be as bad as I had feared. The angry scar on my thigh from where Peter had stabbed me was worse.

"I'll be okay," I told Eddie, then wet a cloth in the sink and brought it over to him, hesitating just for a moment before I gently began to wipe some of the blood from his cheek. He had saved me. I loved him so much.

Standing in front of the mirror while Jamie took off his jeans, Eddie leaned in to look at the claw marks on his cheek, his nose wrinkling with disgust. They weren't deep at all, really nothing more than three deep scratches, but there was blood dripping down his cheek, bright red against his pale face.

Weird than the gash was the wild look in his eyes. It almost felt like looking at a different person.

Stepping away from the sink, Eddie curled a hand around Jamie's wrist as he moved in close, pressing a trembling kiss to his lips. "It's fine," he insisted, "Yours is way worse. Let me look at it."

I had a feeling we could stand here all night, arguing over who was worse off and who got to help who, so I only smiled faintly and nodded when Eddie asked to look at the scratches on my calf. I turned so he could see them better, wishing they would at least stop bleeding soon. It wasn't much, the flow was thick and sluggish, and I knew it was close to stopping, but it hadn't stopped yet and I didn't want that to worry Eddie more than it should have.

"I never knew what it was like before you," I said, the words coming easier now that I was faced away from Eddie. That felt silly, like I was a little kid, because I wanted to say all these things to Eddie, but sometimes I was afraid. I couldn't be afraid now, not when he had been so brave down in the kitchen. "Having someone who wanted to keep me safe. Before you... the boys on the Island were my friends, but I was always the one looking out for them. If I had gotten sick like so many of them did, I know none of them would have taken care of me the way I did for them."

I paused, then shrugged a little. "But you would. If I needed you, you'd be there."

Settling on his haunches, Eddie took the wet rag from Jamie's hand and used a clean end of it to dab at the blood on his calf, a shuddering sigh caught in his chest. He tired not to think about it too hard— about what would've happened if Jamie had really gotten sick or hurt on the island. If they would've left him to suffer, they really couldn't have been very good friends, could they?

Eyes prickling with tears, Eddie blinked them away as best they could, trying and failing to sniffle discretely. "We should really go to the nurse," he said, reaching out to touch the deeper grove of the old scar on Jamie's leg. High on his thigh was a dark mole, just below the bottom hem of his underwear, and Eddie's cheeks flushed when he realized that he was basically eye-level with Jamie's butt.

"Do you think it's really that bad?" I asked, twisting a little to look at Eddie behind me. He touched my old scar, the one from Peter, the one that had been bleeding so terribly when I arrived and I shivered a little. Most of the time I didn't think about my scars very often. They weren't as plentiful as perhaps they should have been on someone who had lived like me, but most had had such a long time to fade. The one on my thigh and the small, circular burns on my arm had been fresh, though, when I arrived in Darrow, and they were still here. They were here to stay, I thought.

Still looking back at Eddie, I found myself grinning. This was always how I'd felt after escaping the pirates, only it was better. The elation that came with winning a fight was increased tenfold, because it was Eddie who had won it instead of me.

"Are you looking at my butt?" I asked, teasing. It was stupid. I was being stupid. But I felt good. I felt alive. I wiggled my butt at Eddie and then laughed.

"I don't know, I at least need my first aid kit," Eddie said, prodding at what looked to be the deepest scratch. Jamie was right that it probably didn't need stitches, but Eddie didn't even want to think about the bacteria that might've been under those claws.

There was no way that thing ever washed its hands.

At Jamie's teasing, Eddie's cheeks darkened and he choked on a laugh, his voice a strangled squawk as he said, "It's right in my face, what do you think?"

It really was right there, and feeling bold, Eddie reached out, gripping one of Jamie's wiggling butt cheeks and giving him a playful shove.

"You're a freak," he accused, without any heat.

"I think you look at my butt even when it's not right in your face," I answered, laughing when he shoved me gently. I kind of liked how it felt, having Eddie grab me like that and my cheeks flushed even as I was laughing.

"I think you look at my butt every chance you get," I teased. "I look at your butt."

I was being both silly and sincere. I did look at Eddie any chance I could. All of Eddie. His face, his arms, his hands, his butt, his legs, any part of him I could see, I liked to look. The girls in my class sometimes teased me, because they would often catch me staring at him from across the library if we were both in there, but forced to sit separately because of our classes.

"Yeah, because I'm a freak," he admitted, grinning as he pushed to his feet. With the adrenaline fading away, and with the knowledge that they were both okay, he was left feeling sort of giddy. Throwing his arms around Jamie's neck, he pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek and said, "Come on. I've got better stuff upstairs."

Antibacterial ointment and gauze and little butterfly bandages. They'd gotten on his case about hording first aid supplies a few times, but they'd mostly given up on it a while ago.

I loved him. I loved him so much and he had saved me.

I wrapped my arms around him in return, though it was only for a moment before I was collecting my shoes and my jeans from the floor. It seemed silly to get dressed again, mostly because my jeans were torn and bloodied, and I thought with all the chaos downstairs no one would even notice that I was walking around in my underwear. I hooked my clothes over my arm, then took Eddie's hand and headed for the stairs.

"Why do you think that thing broke in here?" I asked. "It sounded like it wanted us for something."

I wasn't anything special. Eddie was sweet and smart and strong, but I was just Jamie. I had done horrible things and was still trying to make up for it all.

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