Damn, I Hate You

There was hardly anyone in the Jack in the Box as we sat down with the tacos and sodas. "So... do you think he's going to need an ambulance?" I asked.

"Huh?" he asked as he swallowed the four pills in one quick swig of his soda. "Who?"

"You said you fucked your dad up pretty bad." I said. "Do you think he's going to be, like, dying on the floor or something? Like, should we call for help?"

"Haha, you're actually worried about his well-being? Suddenly I feel less special." he joked darkly. "Dude, I don't even care how he's doing. I hope he's mentally kicking himself because my speech is sinking in. I mean, I could've sworn that he was finally understanding and finally about to apologize. A stupid part of me was hoping it would go like on tv where he understands and then hugs me and we become a happy family. But life's a soap opera, not a sitcom or a drama." he was looking down at his hands and I couldn't stop myself from reaching over to hold them.

"It's ok to want that. It's natural." I said. "I can't imagine how I would be if I thought my dad didn't love me. I'm sure I would've had crazy fantasies of what you want, too."

"Yeah, well, after so many years, you'd think I'd learn otherwise. Anyways, I don't think he's too bad. Like, I tried not to kick him in the head, so he's not dead... Unless I managed to cause some sort of internal bleeding. But I doubt it." he said, stroking my hand with his thumb. He's so loving in his actions. It's sweet.

"You want to go over tomorrow, though? Like, maybe in the afternoon we can check up on your house and see-"

"Now who's being the optimist? I think... I think we should sleep on that idea. I know I'm leaving, but I don't really wanna see him, 'cause that might make me change my mind." he interrupted. That made sense.

We sat for awhile in near silence as employees cleaned up. The place was obviously about to close and you could see the employees wanted to ask us to leave, but we were being jerks and taking as long as we needed. Or at least I was. In Deryk's defense, he was probably in too much pain to move much.

"Well, how do you propose we get to your place?" he asked, looking a little anxious about having to move. I'd never seen him sit so still. This was going to be difficult.

"It's only,like, four blocks. You think you can make it?" I asked. He nodded.

"Do I really have much of a choice?" he asked, laughing slightly. He stood up and made it to the door without a problem. I opened the door for him and we started our walk home.

"You know, a night under the stars doesn't sound too bad, at this point." he smiled.

"Oh be a man and just walk, you big baby." I said, sticking my tongue out at him.

"What if I ask nicely?" he said, batting his eye lashes like the girls do on tv.

"That's not an attractive look for you." I admitted. He wasn't offended.

"Yeah? Well... Pink shoes isn't a good look for you!" He said. I looked down.

"My shoes are brown..."

"Don't bring your logic into this!" he said. Oh my god, he's going insane! But I couldn't help but laugh at him and his lameness. He was resorting to weak humor to keep himself going. It was honorable.

We finally got to my house and he tried being as quiet as possible as I helped him over to the couch. "God, that's my greatest accomplishment of the year!" he whispered.

"Oh, you're such a wimp." I said.

"Psh, whatever you say. I'm happy, at least." he said, smiling as he lied down. "So you gonna go to bed or you wanna chill for awhile?"

"Uh. I dunno, I'm pretty tired. I might just go upstairs and go to sleep." I said. His eyes were hurt instantly, but he hid it quickly.

"It's cool. I'll just get comfy here and sleep. Forever. If I'm not up by eleven, check my pulse." His eyes were closed and he looked so serious.

I waited a moment. "You're kidding, right?"

"Haha, of course. Dude, you're sister's going to have me awake by eight in the morning screaming at me for being here once again." he remarked darkly.

"Actually, she's out at a part tonight, so she might not come home 'til noon tomorrow." I informed him.

"Sweet Jesus, thank the Lord!" he joked, pretending to pray. "So... I guess good night." he said, and I bent down to kiss him. "God, I feel like a four year old getting tucked in by his mommy." he smiled and kissed me.

"You want a blankie, honey?" I said, going along with the four year old comment.

"Sure." he said. I threw him one from the closet in the hall and he was almost instantly asleep. Part of me wanted to just put the blanket around him properly and make sure he was nice and comfortable. Part of me wanted to crawl under the blankets and be near him. Part of me wanted to wake him up and talk to him all night. But the realistic part of me reminded me how tired I was and explained that he would still be there in the morning. It was like a dream, though. He was there, so serene and helpless, and yet I'm over here. Is it really so? Did I just save him?

I walked up the stairs and fell to sleep instantly, smile on my face, dreaming of him.