(no subject)

[reformingfury]

Dave wakes up groggy and sore in the infirmary the day after Halloween. He barely remembers what followed after the shed. How he got here, if he was brought by a friend or if he walked in in a near-catatonic daze after he emptied his stomach, not even who bandaged up his burnt and scratched up skin. Looking around him, he hopes that he’ll at least know that Maxxie and the rest are fine. And that whoever he talks to can tell him that he wasn’t wrong in what he did. That it wasn’t real. That what Dave did was just in self defense and an accident. That he isn’t actually a killer.

Comments

[neither_a_nor_b]

Without giving it a second thought, Bay held out her hand, little finger crooked out for a pinky promise.

"I'll do everything I can to make sure he's okay. You take care of you, okay, big guy?"

[reformingfury]

Just about every bit of Dave would rather see Maxxie is find himself, but he knows logically that he can't move out of bed right now. Not if he doesn't want to hear it from Bay. She's doing this to calm him down, give him more certainty about everything. So he reaches out his own hand and links their pinkies.

"I think I take care of myself a little too well now, after last night. But if I can't check on him, I know you can."

[neither_a_nor_b]

Bay held up three fingers, hoping that Dave never thought to ask if she'd ever been a scout because the answer would have been a resounding no, touched with absolute failure.

"Scout's honor."

[reformingfury]

"Like you were ever a scout," he says with a brief and tiny smile. It felt strange but comforting that he could at least manage that little bit of banter.

"Thanks, Bay."