Fic: The Farthest Star (The Day After Tomorrow, JD/Brian, PG)
Title: The Farthest Star
Fandom: The Day After Tomorrow
Pairing: Brian/J.D.
Rating: PG
Summary: At the end of the world, some things still matter.
Author's note: Written purely for my own amusement, and also because I've been so busy I haven't had time to really work on any of my series. So this is kind of a placeholder ficlet, lest I forget how to string words together. 719 words.
He finds Brian at the back of the camp, jacket pulled tight around him and knees drawn up to his chest. He's sitting on the ground behind one of the storage tents, staring out at the horizon like he's looking for something. For a second J.D. thinks about turning around, leaving Brian to whatever he's thinking so hard about. But he's been searching the camp for almost an hour, and now that he's found Brian he can't just walk away without making sure he's alright.
"Hey," he says, stopping a few feet away from Brian and kicking at the dirt and he wishes he didn't feel so much like he's intruding. Wishes he knew he had the right to be here, but even though they're friends and they spend all their time together, he's still not sure where he stands.
Brian shields his eyes when he looks up, mouth turning up in the shadow of a smile and that's all the encouragement J.D. needs. Maybe it's desperate. Maybe he should try a little harder not to want so much, but even as he thinks it he's sinking down onto the dirt next to Brian. Shoulders pressed together, and every time he finds an excuse to be this close to Brian he tells himself it's because of the cold.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Brian answers, shifting a little and J.D.'s not sure if he meant to move away, but somehow he winds up even closer. He's still staring out at the horizon, eyes far away like they have been since the survivors stopped coming. "It's my birthday."
And he wasn't expecting that; wonders if Sam knows, or if he should have and forgot. He's pretty sure if Laura knew she would have done…something, although he's not sure what there is to do. It's not like they can just borrow the kitchen to bake a cake, and there's nowhere to go shopping even if they had the money for a present. Besides, it's hard to know what to get for the guy who just lost…well, everything.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Brian shrugs, shoulder moving against his and J.D. wishes they didn't have to wear so many layers. "There's not really any point. It doesn't matter, it's just…sometimes I wonder what happened to them."
He knows who Brian's talking about. His parents, who never showed up and as far as they know there's no word on what happened to them. Jack's asked around, called in a favor or two but there was never any word about them at any of the other camps, and finally Brian just stopped asking. And J.D.'s not sure what that feels like, the not knowing, because his father was on a ski slope somewhere in Europe when the storm hit, and there's no question what happened to him.
He's not sure which is worse: knowing his father's dead, or spending the rest of his life wondering.
"It matters," he says, and it sounds lame even to him, but he doesn't know any other way to make Brian feel better. "It matters to me."
He's not sure what he just admitted, but when Brian looks at him there's a spark of…something in his eyes, recognition or acknowledgement or maybe surprise. Brian doesn't say anything, but he nods and turns back to the horizon, shoulder settling a little more firmly against J.D.'s and that must count for something. It has to, because he's not sure how much more of this he can take.
"Come on," he says, jostling Brian's shoulder with his own before he stands up and holds out a hand. "I'll buy you dinner. To celebrate your birthday."
He expects Brian to refuse, to mumble something about not being hungry and go back to brooding over questions he might never be able to answer. And for a second he looks like he might, but then he smiles and reaches up, hand warm against J.D.'s in spite of the cold. "Military rations and bug juice? That's not much of a celebration."
And it's true, but he's still smiling as he stands up, so J.D. grins back at him and lets go of his hand to slide an arm around his shoulders. "We've still got seven hours until your birthday's over. Give me a little time, I'll think of something."
Fandom: The Day After Tomorrow
Pairing: Brian/J.D.
Rating: PG
Summary: At the end of the world, some things still matter.
Author's note: Written purely for my own amusement, and also because I've been so busy I haven't had time to really work on any of my series. So this is kind of a placeholder ficlet, lest I forget how to string words together. 719 words.
He finds Brian at the back of the camp, jacket pulled tight around him and knees drawn up to his chest. He's sitting on the ground behind one of the storage tents, staring out at the horizon like he's looking for something. For a second J.D. thinks about turning around, leaving Brian to whatever he's thinking so hard about. But he's been searching the camp for almost an hour, and now that he's found Brian he can't just walk away without making sure he's alright.
"Hey," he says, stopping a few feet away from Brian and kicking at the dirt and he wishes he didn't feel so much like he's intruding. Wishes he knew he had the right to be here, but even though they're friends and they spend all their time together, he's still not sure where he stands.
Brian shields his eyes when he looks up, mouth turning up in the shadow of a smile and that's all the encouragement J.D. needs. Maybe it's desperate. Maybe he should try a little harder not to want so much, but even as he thinks it he's sinking down onto the dirt next to Brian. Shoulders pressed together, and every time he finds an excuse to be this close to Brian he tells himself it's because of the cold.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Brian answers, shifting a little and J.D.'s not sure if he meant to move away, but somehow he winds up even closer. He's still staring out at the horizon, eyes far away like they have been since the survivors stopped coming. "It's my birthday."
And he wasn't expecting that; wonders if Sam knows, or if he should have and forgot. He's pretty sure if Laura knew she would have done…something, although he's not sure what there is to do. It's not like they can just borrow the kitchen to bake a cake, and there's nowhere to go shopping even if they had the money for a present. Besides, it's hard to know what to get for the guy who just lost…well, everything.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Brian shrugs, shoulder moving against his and J.D. wishes they didn't have to wear so many layers. "There's not really any point. It doesn't matter, it's just…sometimes I wonder what happened to them."
He knows who Brian's talking about. His parents, who never showed up and as far as they know there's no word on what happened to them. Jack's asked around, called in a favor or two but there was never any word about them at any of the other camps, and finally Brian just stopped asking. And J.D.'s not sure what that feels like, the not knowing, because his father was on a ski slope somewhere in Europe when the storm hit, and there's no question what happened to him.
He's not sure which is worse: knowing his father's dead, or spending the rest of his life wondering.
"It matters," he says, and it sounds lame even to him, but he doesn't know any other way to make Brian feel better. "It matters to me."
He's not sure what he just admitted, but when Brian looks at him there's a spark of…something in his eyes, recognition or acknowledgement or maybe surprise. Brian doesn't say anything, but he nods and turns back to the horizon, shoulder settling a little more firmly against J.D.'s and that must count for something. It has to, because he's not sure how much more of this he can take.
"Come on," he says, jostling Brian's shoulder with his own before he stands up and holds out a hand. "I'll buy you dinner. To celebrate your birthday."
He expects Brian to refuse, to mumble something about not being hungry and go back to brooding over questions he might never be able to answer. And for a second he looks like he might, but then he smiles and reaches up, hand warm against J.D.'s in spite of the cold. "Military rations and bug juice? That's not much of a celebration."
And it's true, but he's still smiling as he stands up, so J.D. grins back at him and lets go of his hand to slide an arm around his shoulders. "We've still got seven hours until your birthday's over. Give me a little time, I'll think of something."