Chapter Text
It ends up being Jade who finally breaks the silence, stirring slightly, curling up tighter so that the foot that was sticking out from under the blankets is pulled up into the rest of her body. She turns her head slightly so that her face is turned towards the man sitting at her bedside.
“I don’t understand,” she says hoarsely, “I thought we were out of the game. I thought we won.”
Dave is silent for a few long moments, first out of surprise at hearing her voice, and then out of grim contemplation. His hands curl up into fists at his sides and he tries to find the words that won’t break this girl anymore than she’s already been broken.
“We are out of the game,” he says finally, his own voice a little hoarse, “We did win. Jade, what’s wrong? Seriously, I can’t- I’m not-.” He huffs, a shuddering release of breath as he turns away from her, biting his tongue to stop from tumbling into his practice of rambling when he’s nervous.
“Please talk to me,” he says finally, after seconds of tense silence, “Whatever you’re going through, whatever the fuck’s wrong, you don’t have to go through it alone. None of us ever have to go through anything alone ever again. Because we did win, we did get out. Together. And if you’re hurting than the rest of us are hurting so just fucking talk to me so we can slap a giant bandaid on whatever scrape you’ve got on your heart.”
Jade shudders underneath her blankets, and curls up tighter for a second, before she sits up abruptly, still wrapped up, but with her head uncovered, and her eyes, puffy and red, staring directly at Dave.
“If we’re out of the game,” she says, her voice choked with tears, and her entire form trembling as she pulls the blankets closer about herself. “If we’re out of the game, then why did he die?”
Oh.
Oh.
And in that moment Dave swears he is the most unobservant fucktruck this side of the galaxy because how the hell did he not notice Bec’s absence. Like hell Bec wouldn’t be curled up on the bed right beside Jade if she was feeling shitty. He might not be an omnipotent superpet but he was still her dog and was still technically the one who had raised her for a good portion of her life. But he’s not curled up beside her. He’s not anywhere in the room.
Or anywhere in the house.
Fuck.
“Jade, I’m so sorry,” Dave whispers hoarsely, running his fingers through his hair and swallowing thickly. His mouth opens, as he tries to think of something to add, but for once, the words don’t flow.
“I don’t understand,” she repeats, shivering, “I just don’t understand.”
There are a hundred and one things that he could say, but none of them seem appropriate, not now, not when Jade is staring forward with vacant eyes and her entire body trembling with shakes. Talking is something that needs to happen, not just with him, but with the other two people that make up their fucked up ‘I survived the apocalypse’ family. But they’re not here right now. There’s only him.
So Dave scoots closer, and wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest and running his finger through her hair. Letting her turn her head and sob into his shirt while mumbling ‘I don’t understand’ at different intervals.
“The thing about death is,” he murmurs, half to himself, half to the girl he’s rocking gently in his arms, “It’s impossible to understand. It makes no fucking sense whatsoever. You can’t fight it, or guard against it, or really do anything to stop it when it fucks you over in the middle of the night. But,”
He swallows thickly, and rests his cheek on the top of her head,“But you just gotta keep on living. Even if death takes every single fucking thing you hold dear. You gotta keep on living. That’s the only way to beat it. The biggest ‘fuck you’ to death is going on with your life and showing it that no matter how many scars it leaves on you, how many ways it hurts you, you won’t be conquered. And you’ll roll back onto your feet, shoot death the bird, and carry the fuck on.”
He falls silent, and there are a few long minutes that stretch between them.
“I’m not sure if I can,” she says finally, in a small voice, still strained with past tears, “I’ve never had to live without him before.”
“Yeah, well,” he replies, pulling her closer to himself and reaching down to clasp her hands with his, “No one’s ever sure. That’s what family is for. To support you when you can no longer support yourself. So don’t let this beat you, alright Harley?”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath before letting the blanket fall away from her shoulders, tilting her head upwards so that her eyes meet his. She can’t quite muster up a smile, but she’s able to blink away the tears, and lock her fingers with his.
“I won’t let this beat me, Strider.”