The bell rings.
Signifying the beginning of the last five weeks of school, and Dirk Strider is slouched in his seat. He is just a tad oversized for it, but thankfully he is a senior, and although he has enough college credits already to get his doctorate, he'll have only the country's most prestigious universities all vying for his attendance come the end of the year. What were some of the words used to describe him? Prodigy. Genius. That doesn't even begin to cover it.
Mr. Egbert, homeroom teacher, gives him a bright smile as he enters his classroom. He is a music teacher, so Dirk doesn't have any class this year with him besides study hall and homeroom, but he knows him personally. His bro's best friend, but he doesn't call him by his first name during school. He seems excited about something, but Dirk can't guess what. Usually he comes in with a rain cloud over his head, usually induced by kids giving him a hard time or his shitty car breaking down a mile from the parking lot.
"I have an announcement," he says over the noise of excitable seniors, but Dirk is pretty much the only one listening. He continues trying to get the attention of his students. "Guys!"
Less noise, but it hasn't completely diminished. John decides to continue despite this, because assertiveness just isn't his strong suit. "I got your hospital assignments."
Dirk feels a slight aggravation of his nerves at this, augmented by John scribbling patients' names on the marker board and the name of a corresponding student beside them. It is a project that several seniors in school participate in. A student is assigned a patient in the nearby children's hospital to befriend for a period of five weeks, with regular visits, as a type of community service. Dirk has known since his freshman year that this day would come, but somehow has never faced the reality until this moment. He is bad with children, especially sick children. Besides that, hospitals to him mean one thing - germs. The thought of it makes him swoon.
Dirk impulsively reaches for the hand sanitizer he keeps clipped to his backpack and squeezes some onto his hands. Better. Now he needs John to sit down, stop writing on the board so he can see the name of the patient he's been paired up with. He moves away and several of the students search for the meaningless name of the mystery patient who will be occupying the next five weeks of their lives. Dirk's sight lights on his almost instantly - Jake English.
Reading the name did nothing to set his nervous mind at ease, of course, because Jake English was nothing but a name that he did not recognize in the slightest. Hospitals. Sick children. Germs. Diseases. Bodily fluids. His stomach turns at the thought of all this. The bell rings, and he only sees one way out. He walks coolly to John's desk, as phlegmatic as ever a dude can be.
"My bro doesn't permit me to do this assignment," he says, and John simply smirks.
"No, Dave said it's fine. I asked him personally," he responds, and Dirk can't help but to resent the curve of his lips. His own bro, a traitor. His own flesh and blood...
"I'm not good with sick kids, or hospitals," he went on, desperate for a viable excuse.
"Dirk, listen, I stuck my neck out for you," John begins, waving his blue pen at him. He is grading the Romantic Composers exam, something the blond could ace with his eyes closed, even though he hadn't taken John's class since he was a sophomore. "Jake's my cousin, he's your age, he doesn't have a disease, and he's totally cool!"
"But," Dirk exclaims, despite not having a reason to say but. He just stares at John disapprovingly, who ignores him to continue grading papers.
He turns away and walks out the door, unable to really understand why this has to happen to him. He's not used to being in an uncomfortable situation, and not getting his way. In mere hours, he would check in with the rest of the students doing the assignment, be shipped off to the children's hospital on a big yellow bus, and introduced to Jake English - John's cousin and also his idea of "totally cool," and the biggest source of his stress since his bro brought that wild bird home. That shitty bird was not one of Dave's best ideas, that was for sure.
He considers skipping school, but the ramifications seem inevitable with John at his place every other night. The only option seems to be to bite the bullet, unless you are as resourceful as Dirk Strider. As he sits in AP chemistry, he tries to be just that. Inventive. But it doesn't come easy - it's his guilty conscience that's holding him back. If he didn't hear enough of how much the patients enjoy the seniors coming in to do the community service at school, he certainly hear about it enough at home. John is fairly obsessed with the program, and it was made apparent by the excitement in his voice when he would explain it to Dave. Dirk has heard about a lot of types of the patients John has met through the program - kids with leukemia and CP, burn victims, anything that is enough to land someone in the children's hospital for an extended stay.
Dirk shudders, unable to determine if he can deal with it. John did say that his cousin Jake didn't have a disease, but that almost made it worse. If it wasn't a disease, then what? A disfiguring injury? An external tumor? At best, he would be paraplegic. Dirk pushes the thoughts from his mind when he is suddenly unable to concentrate. If nothing else, he takes comfort in the fact that the visits will last only from one to two hours. Any time spent over that is optional. And if he really is unable to do anything, John will pull him out. Dirk finds himself once again reaching for his hand sanitizer, spreading it over his raw skin. He wets his lips and stares at the clock. Only three hours to go.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
The bus is jam packed full of rowdy seniors. Dirk stands on the curb next to it, empty handed and staring at his car that could take him away from all this. John is behind him. Last people to find their seats as Dirk sets one foot on the first step. The bus full of students is excited to be dismissed from school three hours earlier than usual, but at what cost, is the question on Dirk's mind. Maybe he is blowing things way out of proportion, maybe this won't be so bad. A final glance at his car before it disappears behind a wall of gray and rivets is the deciding factor. Now it is really too late. John steps on behind him and the doors squeeze shut, sucking the air out of Dirk.
The hospital is just a bus ride away.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
John is sleeping on Dirk's shoulder when the bus pulls up in front of glass automatic doors. Dirk was unable to sleep, barely able to keep his heart from exploding out of his chest. He shakes John, nerves racing as students pass by him, abandoning sleepy facades for gregarious chatter. His teacher rouses, looking slightly embarrassed, and accidentally calls him by his brother's name without noticing. He seems relieved that Mr. Vantas, who teaches Dirk's AP chemistry class, is corralling the students in his bossy voice, and Dirk finds himself jealous, wishing he could take part in this relief as well.
"Listen up, stupid kids," he trumpets angrily once off the bus, not that any of his students actually take him seriously. Everyone huddles in a group, many eyes and thoughts occupied by the towering building, an immense box, full of windows and bricks. "You're all going to wear these godforsaken name tags, you got that, you belligerent termites? We're not going to have a damn fiasco like we did last year!"
Another teacher that Dirk has never had passes out stickers, and he neatly prints Dirk Strider on his with John's marker, which he was able to swipe before he even knew it was gone. Vantas continues to shout instructions like a Nazi, making it pretty obvious that he expects the group to move as one organized unit. Dirk resists the urge to reach out and grab John by his sweater for support as he passes around the marker. He grabs at his hand sanitizer only to realize he left it at school.
"Dirk, this hospital is extremely clean," John assures him, smiling gently as though he senses his tension. "You'll be ok." He sets his hand on Dirk's shoulder, which is something he appreciates, because John is the closest thing he has to Dave at the moment. The group of students enters through the main entrance, through a hallway, and down a flight of stairs since there are too many people for the elevator. They walk along into a large cafeteria where about fifty patients are sitting at long, rectangular tables. Dirk walks past, examining the names rather than the sickly faces and pale skin.
He walks past the whole table twice without being able to spot a Jake English, and he can't help the relief he feels. He reports back to John and Mr. Vantas.
"He's not here," he explains, handing the card with his name on it back. Vantas grabs it first while John starts to sputter about something, that it wasn't possible, that he was sure Jake was still here. Right as Vantas is about to take matters into his own hands, a nurse walks by, reading the card.
"Oh," she says, a hint of solemnity in her tone, "Jake English isn't permitted to be in the cafeteria. I can take you to his room, if you'd like."
Dirk stalls, unable to say anything, and before John can offer to go with him, Vantas does. "I have to accompany him, he's a student," he insists. Dirk stares back at John, wishing he'd say something, but he's too preoccupied with the other students. He simply looks at him and smiles.
"Tell Jake I say hi." With that, he walks off.
Vantas grabs him fiercely by the elbow as he tries to stray back towards his classmates, yanking him along with the nurse. Dirk wrenches free promptly, looking down at his teacher like he should know better than to try to manhandle a Strider. They are led into an elevator, and with every illuminating glow of a floor button, his heart beats faster. There must be some mistake of him being paired up with this boy - if his condition is too bad to leave the room, he is highly contagious. Dirk holds his breaths to try to retain a calm facade, but he only becomes more dizzy. He can't lose his cool, especially not in front of anyone. It seems like an eternity before the elevator stops and the doors rattle open. A straight hallway is the only thing separating him from his fate.
They walk past several doors before stopping, standing in front of an open door. From the angle, Dirk is not able to see inside of it, and the nurse knocks quietly. "Jake, you have a visitor."
"Thank you," responds a thickly accented voice, and Dirk's heart pounds. At least he can talk. The nurse steps aside to let him and Mr. Vantas enter, and Dirk balks awkwardly at the doorway. He doesn't look directly at the patient, instead letting his eyes find all the flowers. There are tons of plants, both in vases and pots, maybe even a hundred of them, filling the hospital room. The smell of greenery nearly chokes him, used to the sterile scent of the hospital. Then he takes a deep breath, finding the courage to look at his new assignment.
Black hair, warm green eyes, big front teeth. He very closely resembles John, but he's different. Tougher looking, more confident. His tanned skin suggests hours spent outdoors, and he wears glasses. His face is badly bruised, his right arm in a sling, and the rest of his upper body is covered in a flimsy hospital gown. Dirk can't see below his waist because he is under a blanket, sitting up, pillows propping his back straight. Instantly upon taking him in, the trepidation fades away. He's injured, banged up pretty badly by the looks of it, but other than that, he appears to be fine. But just to be sure...
"I'm not going to catch anything from him, am I?" Dirk blurts out. Vantas groans, and the nurse narrows her eyes at him.
"No," she responds, offset by his rude comment but too decent to say anything. "He's here because he was in a car accident."
Dirk is relieved, glancing over to see Jake's reaction. His eyes are slightly wide, and he seems confused. Then he smiles slightly, laughs a little. Dirk can't stop himself from turning completely towards him - he can't explain it, but that laugh is like music to his ears. Vantas mumbles something about getting back to the group after a moment of silence, bids Dirk to stay, and runs off. The nurse also leaves a few moments later, shooting him a warning glare before she exits.
"You must be Dirk," says the patient, smiling. " 'Name's Jake English, how d'you do?" He reaches out his uninjured hand, and Dirk falters. Against his better judgement, he steps forward and grabs it firmly. It's warm, but luckily, dry, and smooth. His grip is a little awkward, indicating that he is most likely right handed.
"Pleasure," mumbles Dirk, still trying to take it all in.
"You know, John's told me all about you. It was really swell of you to come pay me a visit, what a top-notch fellow you are!"
He smiles widely, and Dirk is taken by surprise at how talkative he is. He had sort of assumed that someone serving a hospital stay with a broken arm would be a lot moodier. Still, Dirk can't exactly find a way to be comfortable. He resists the urge to let his eyes dart around the room to find something unclean, something that can contaminate him. Jake frowns, noticing that Dirk's gaze is fixed stoically on him, his lips pressed together tightly.
"Are you all right, there?" he asks, and Dirk forces a nod.
"I don't do well in hospitals," he confesses, and the genuine concern on Jake's face surprises him yet again.
"What if you sit down?" he says, gesturing at a chair near the bed.
The idea horrifies Dirk, but he knows to keep his mysophobia in check. It just happens to become one hundred percent more difficult in a hospital. He briefly analyses the surface for apparent dirt, then sits down cautiously. Jake smiles at him, seeming pleased. "I understand how you feel. I hate being indoors..." He glances at the window, then back to Dirk. "Do you want some water?"
He struggles up, reaching for the pink plastic cup, and Dirk's mouth turns dry with dread. "No, no," he quickly dismisses, and Jake looks slightly confused. Dirk realizes the tone of his voice and tries to sound calm. "I'm not thirsty..."
"Oh," he mumbles, lowering himself with difficulty back against the pillows. Dirk can't help but to hear the little groan that escapes his lips. They stare at each other for a long time, and the blond takes that moment to take note of his appearance. He is considerably smaller than Dirk but looks scrappy enough, thin but somewhat knobby, with a somehow childish air to him. His soft green eyes are his most outstanding physical feature, even if they are slightly obscured by those rectangular glasses. In looks, he is opposite to Dirk in every way, who is pale, muscular, and blond. Dirk is hesitant to admit that he is attracted to him, despite the dark bruising that eclipses at least half his face total.
He feels the sudden urge to inquire about his accident but quells it, leaving it for another time. They had only just met, and delving into personal feelings was not a thing that Dirk did. To engage someone who was almost a stranger in an inquisitive conversation over the reason why he is in the hospital is unthinkable in this state of the relationship. At least to Dirk. However, this Jake seems to be an open book. The next thing he says shocks him.
"You don't want to be here, isn't that right?" he asks softly, averting his eyes.
"What led you to that conclusion?" he asks sharply in response. It was completely true (well it had been just a few minutes ago actually, but Dirk isn't about to admit that), but he was curious as to why he thought so.
"I can tell when people don't like me," he responds darkly. "You know, they won't let me look in the mirror! Am I hideous?"
"No," Dirk answers, although he can see why. If he had seen his own face like that, he might be brought close to an emotional reaction. To an average person, it could very well result in a mental breakdown. "Your skin is severely discolored by bruising."
He smiles, seeming to momentarily forget his fears of rejection. "Is that all? I sure as heck've seen a lot worse!"
Dirk stares for a moment, wondering how such an extroverted person can also be such an enigma. "You seem like a pretty reckless dude," he observes, and this brings a brilliant grin to Jake's face.
"I love fisticuffs!" he exclaims almost instantly. It takes a lot for Dirk to stifle a smile.
At that moment, a garbled voice comes loudly over speakers, urgently requesting some doctor on floor 7. Dirk struggles to remember what floor they are on.
"Oh!" shouts Jake suddenly, moving to push himself out of bed. He pulls the blanket off his legs, one tan, long, and extremely attractive, the other covered in bandages and braces and casting up to his mid thigh.
"What are you doing?" Dirk inquires, casually checking him out now that he is completely exposed. Despite the injuries, hospital dress, and bedhead, he's still a ten.
"I want to use the telephone," he explains. "Now is the best time because they won't be..." He pauses, using his bed as a crutch before hobbling fearlessly towards the door. He smiles mischievously. "Expecting me."
Dirk instantly understands that that means he is not permitted to use the phone at that time, and probably not permitted to leave the room. Still, he is making a speedy egress, so Dirk catches him at the doorway, grabbing him by the arm. "It would be pretty fucking calamitous for you to break something else at this point," he states seriously, and Jake just stares up at him. Then he grins.
"Your eyes are downright spectacular!" he exclaims, and Dirk has no time to stop the blush that surfaces on his cheeks. Then Jake continues out into the hallway, where the staff is in a panic. He stares inquisitively for a moment, and Dirk can hear the sound of wheels coming down the hallway. Before either of them has time to register, several nurses and a doctor pushing a gurney come past. A sick girl lies on the stretcher, convulsing violently. Dirk's lungs clench as he tries to pull back, reaching for his hand sanitizer that isn't there and grabbing Jake's gown instead.
"Are you all right?" Jake asks, but his voice sounds miles away, outside of a window. "Dirk? Dirk!" He doesn't feel himself hit the floor.