Chest Pains
Woo! Someone else was inspired to write a fic about 90s Kid and Dan after that heart-wrenching episode yesterday! Here's my version of what happened, filled with much more angst and hurt/comfort, because that's how I roll, apparently. :)
80s Dan was sprawled out on his couch enjoying a TaB and engaging in his weekly ‘Manimal’ marathon. However, instead of being comforted knowing he was watching the greatest TV show in existence, Dan couldn’t help feeling restless. He shifted on the cushions every so often as he tried (and failed) to get comfortable, and found his gaze wandering over to the clock every few seconds. A frown soon appeared on his face, one that deepened as each minute passed by.
“Huh. 90s Kid sure is late today.”
The two had made plans to hang at Dan’s place just last weekend. While 90s Kid wasn’t always the most reliable person, he usually had the courtesy to call Dan and tell him about whatever ‘totally bogus’ event was going to make him late; this time, though, Dan’s answering machine remained suspiciously empty.
After spending another ten minutes not marveling over Simon MacCorkindale’s genius, Dan finally shut off his VCR and sat up, reaching for his phone with one hand.
“If I just call him myself, I’m sure he’ll laugh and say something about his skateboard needing new wheels or something,” Dan said as he started dialing, trying to sound more reassured than he felt. Since neither of the two bothered with any of that ‘voice-mail’ nonsense everyone from the present seemed completely enamored with, 90s Kid’s cell phone rang and rang without any reason to stop.
Dan sat chewing his lip and counting the rings. When he’d gotten to thirty, he was about to hang up, but a sudden click caught his attention.
“90s Kid? Is that you?” There was no response. “It’s me. I wanted to see if you were still coming over today.”
More silence. Dan felt a strange prickle on the back of his neck and gripped the phone a little tighter.
“90s Kid? Are you there?”
“… Dan?”
Dan’s heart plummeted at the almost unrecognizable, yet all too familiar voice calling his name. There was no good reason for 90s Kid to ever sound that scared. His stomach started to churn and, without thinking, Dan stood up.
“Where are you? Are you at Linkara’s place?”
“Yeah.”
“Is anyone else there with you?”
There was a sharp intake of breath and a few more seconds of silence before 90s Kid whispered a reply. “I… I’m alone.”
“Hold on. I’ll be right there.” Without even bothering to put on his favorite white jacket, Dan scribbled a note for ROB and Dolly before rushing out of the house.
When he arrived at Linkara’s, Dan didn’t bother with the formalities of knocking. He pulled out the emergency key 90s Kid had given him ages ago and quickly unlocked the door. Dan burst inside and peered around, searching for any signs that some horrible battle had occurred in this house once again, or that some terrible monster was looming in the shadows. When he failed to find any, his concern finally outweighed his desire to stay safe.
“Hey, it’s me! 90s Kid? I’m here!”
He checked 90s Kid’s room first, then that one room filled with all the comics, then the other room filled with all the comics, before a whimper from behind drew his attention. Dan turned around and headed down the hall to a room at the very back of the base, a small half-bathroom, and saw a familiar young man sitting on the floor.
“There you are!” Already feeling relieved, Dan hurried over to kneel down beside him.
90s Kid’s back was pressed against the wall and his sunglasses were off, revealing to Dan that his eyes were closed. No, not just closed. Squeezed shut. And he was pale. And grimacing. And breathing strangely, as if it hurt to do so. Dan’s brows furrowed and he looked the teen over, finally noticing how 90s Kid seemed to be clutching at his chest.
“90s Kid?” Dan’s voice softened. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Dan reached out, unsure if he wanted to check for an injury personally or just offer a reassuring pat on the arm, but 90s Kid’s eyes snapped open.
“No! D-don’t!” He moved his hands in front of his chest protectively and almost choked on his breath from the force of the sudden shout.
“All right, I won’t touch you!” Dan quickly lifted his hands in surrender. “But you are hurt, aren’t you?”
90s Kid flinched and dropped his gaze.
“I’m fine.”
Dan frowned. “You’re obviously not fine. What happened to your chest?” 90s Kid gave a quick shake of his head, refusing to lower his hands.
“It’s nothing.” He was always that way, trying to be tough, too stubborn to admit when something was wrong. Dan knew 90s Kid was desperate to prove himself to the others. He knew how he hated being the youngest, and considered himself the weakest, even though that was completely wrong.
90s Kid was strong. He was much stronger than he or most people realized. He’d endured numerous hardships in his short life, and pain that the average person couldn’t even imagine. Pain that would crush a true weakling, like Dan.
Sometimes he dreamt of running away, running as far as he could, and taking 90s Kid with him, to somewhere aliens and killer robots and deadly weapons couldn’t reach him.
But that was a dream for another time. Right now, it was time to set dreams aside and focus on reality. The reality of 90s Kid suffering before his very eyes. After that horrible incident with the Entity, Dan had done his best to pay closer attention to 90s Kid so that he could best determine what the younger man needed most when things were bad.
Dan took a breath, and then took a chance at offering the person who mattered most to him what he thought he needed.
“Hey.” 90s Kid didn’t look up until he felt the soft stroke of fingers across his cheek. He jumped and turned to Dan in confusion, but froze when he felt a warm palm cup his other cheek. 90s Kid blushed as Dan moved their heads closer together, allowing their foreheads to rest against each other. “You don’t have to pretend.” Dan’s voice was low and calm. “You don’t have to be strong. You can tell me what’s hurting you… and I’ll try to make it better.”
Dan attempted to smile at 90s Kid, but his heart wasn’t in the gesture, and it came out so pained that the last remnants of the teen’s willpower shattered. He choked back a sob as hot tears formed in his eyes before they slid down, slowly soaking Dan’s fingers.
“It… it h-hurts… it hurts s-so much, Dan…”
His hands twisted at the front of his T-shirt.
“Your chest?” Dan asked, gently brushing a few tears away.
“My… heart… he really h-hurt it and… I don’t know how to… to make it stop.”
Another sob escaped past his lips before 90s Kid slumped down further. Though he kept his arms over his chest, he leaned into Dan, pressing his side against Dan’s chest, before burying his face in the older man’s shoulder.
Instinctively, Dan wrapped his arms around 90s Kid, making sure to keep his hands at waist-level to avoid any chance of possibly hurting him. His normally serene eyes glinted with malice as he realized that someone else, maybe someone who was even close to 90s Kid, had done this to him. Dan wanted to find out as much information as he could about what had happened, but he knew it wasn’t the time to think about culprits and vengeance. The only important thing now was shaking gently in his arms. His eyes softened once again as he pressed his lips against 90s Kid’s forehead.
“We’ll find a way,” Dan promised as he brought a hand up to run through the teen’s short hair, eliciting a shudder, then a soft sigh.
“We’ll find a way to make both our hearts stop hurting.”
80s Dan was sprawled out on his couch enjoying a TaB and engaging in his weekly ‘Manimal’ marathon. However, instead of being comforted knowing he was watching the greatest TV show in existence, Dan couldn’t help feeling restless. He shifted on the cushions every so often as he tried (and failed) to get comfortable, and found his gaze wandering over to the clock every few seconds. A frown soon appeared on his face, one that deepened as each minute passed by.
“Huh. 90s Kid sure is late today.”
The two had made plans to hang at Dan’s place just last weekend. While 90s Kid wasn’t always the most reliable person, he usually had the courtesy to call Dan and tell him about whatever ‘totally bogus’ event was going to make him late; this time, though, Dan’s answering machine remained suspiciously empty.
After spending another ten minutes not marveling over Simon MacCorkindale’s genius, Dan finally shut off his VCR and sat up, reaching for his phone with one hand.
“If I just call him myself, I’m sure he’ll laugh and say something about his skateboard needing new wheels or something,” Dan said as he started dialing, trying to sound more reassured than he felt. Since neither of the two bothered with any of that ‘voice-mail’ nonsense everyone from the present seemed completely enamored with, 90s Kid’s cell phone rang and rang without any reason to stop.
Dan sat chewing his lip and counting the rings. When he’d gotten to thirty, he was about to hang up, but a sudden click caught his attention.
“90s Kid? Is that you?” There was no response. “It’s me. I wanted to see if you were still coming over today.”
More silence. Dan felt a strange prickle on the back of his neck and gripped the phone a little tighter.
“90s Kid? Are you there?”
“… Dan?”
Dan’s heart plummeted at the almost unrecognizable, yet all too familiar voice calling his name. There was no good reason for 90s Kid to ever sound that scared. His stomach started to churn and, without thinking, Dan stood up.
“Where are you? Are you at Linkara’s place?”
“Yeah.”
“Is anyone else there with you?”
There was a sharp intake of breath and a few more seconds of silence before 90s Kid whispered a reply. “I… I’m alone.”
“Hold on. I’ll be right there.” Without even bothering to put on his favorite white jacket, Dan scribbled a note for ROB and Dolly before rushing out of the house.
When he arrived at Linkara’s, Dan didn’t bother with the formalities of knocking. He pulled out the emergency key 90s Kid had given him ages ago and quickly unlocked the door. Dan burst inside and peered around, searching for any signs that some horrible battle had occurred in this house once again, or that some terrible monster was looming in the shadows. When he failed to find any, his concern finally outweighed his desire to stay safe.
“Hey, it’s me! 90s Kid? I’m here!”
He checked 90s Kid’s room first, then that one room filled with all the comics, then the other room filled with all the comics, before a whimper from behind drew his attention. Dan turned around and headed down the hall to a room at the very back of the base, a small half-bathroom, and saw a familiar young man sitting on the floor.
“There you are!” Already feeling relieved, Dan hurried over to kneel down beside him.
90s Kid’s back was pressed against the wall and his sunglasses were off, revealing to Dan that his eyes were closed. No, not just closed. Squeezed shut. And he was pale. And grimacing. And breathing strangely, as if it hurt to do so. Dan’s brows furrowed and he looked the teen over, finally noticing how 90s Kid seemed to be clutching at his chest.
“90s Kid?” Dan’s voice softened. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Dan reached out, unsure if he wanted to check for an injury personally or just offer a reassuring pat on the arm, but 90s Kid’s eyes snapped open.
“No! D-don’t!” He moved his hands in front of his chest protectively and almost choked on his breath from the force of the sudden shout.
“All right, I won’t touch you!” Dan quickly lifted his hands in surrender. “But you are hurt, aren’t you?”
90s Kid flinched and dropped his gaze.
“I’m fine.”
Dan frowned. “You’re obviously not fine. What happened to your chest?” 90s Kid gave a quick shake of his head, refusing to lower his hands.
“It’s nothing.” He was always that way, trying to be tough, too stubborn to admit when something was wrong. Dan knew 90s Kid was desperate to prove himself to the others. He knew how he hated being the youngest, and considered himself the weakest, even though that was completely wrong.
90s Kid was strong. He was much stronger than he or most people realized. He’d endured numerous hardships in his short life, and pain that the average person couldn’t even imagine. Pain that would crush a true weakling, like Dan.
Sometimes he dreamt of running away, running as far as he could, and taking 90s Kid with him, to somewhere aliens and killer robots and deadly weapons couldn’t reach him.
But that was a dream for another time. Right now, it was time to set dreams aside and focus on reality. The reality of 90s Kid suffering before his very eyes. After that horrible incident with the Entity, Dan had done his best to pay closer attention to 90s Kid so that he could best determine what the younger man needed most when things were bad.
Dan took a breath, and then took a chance at offering the person who mattered most to him what he thought he needed.
“Hey.” 90s Kid didn’t look up until he felt the soft stroke of fingers across his cheek. He jumped and turned to Dan in confusion, but froze when he felt a warm palm cup his other cheek. 90s Kid blushed as Dan moved their heads closer together, allowing their foreheads to rest against each other. “You don’t have to pretend.” Dan’s voice was low and calm. “You don’t have to be strong. You can tell me what’s hurting you… and I’ll try to make it better.”
Dan attempted to smile at 90s Kid, but his heart wasn’t in the gesture, and it came out so pained that the last remnants of the teen’s willpower shattered. He choked back a sob as hot tears formed in his eyes before they slid down, slowly soaking Dan’s fingers.
“It… it h-hurts… it hurts s-so much, Dan…”
His hands twisted at the front of his T-shirt.
“Your chest?” Dan asked, gently brushing a few tears away.
“My… heart… he really h-hurt it and… I don’t know how to… to make it stop.”
Another sob escaped past his lips before 90s Kid slumped down further. Though he kept his arms over his chest, he leaned into Dan, pressing his side against Dan’s chest, before burying his face in the older man’s shoulder.
Instinctively, Dan wrapped his arms around 90s Kid, making sure to keep his hands at waist-level to avoid any chance of possibly hurting him. His normally serene eyes glinted with malice as he realized that someone else, maybe someone who was even close to 90s Kid, had done this to him. Dan wanted to find out as much information as he could about what had happened, but he knew it wasn’t the time to think about culprits and vengeance. The only important thing now was shaking gently in his arms. His eyes softened once again as he pressed his lips against 90s Kid’s forehead.
“We’ll find a way,” Dan promised as he brought a hand up to run through the teen’s short hair, eliciting a shudder, then a soft sigh.
“We’ll find a way to make both our hearts stop hurting.”