TW for talk of self-harm (cutting) and previous suicidal thoughts

It doesn't take long for Jaskier to fall back into a deep sleep. Geralt sits with him for a while, listening to his quiet, even breaths and thinking about the bandage around his wrist. He wonders if it's the only one, or if there are a ladder of marks up his forearms like the scars Geralt saw before.

Thinking about it makes Geralt's chest ache.

Geralt drifts in and out of sleep until morning comes and the sun is starting to creep across the sky. Jaskier's still snoring softly, so Geralt shifts so he can lift him up and carry him into the bedroom. Jaskier mumbles something and presses his face to Geralt's neck as Geralt lays him down in the pile of pillows, tugging the blanket up over him.

"C'mere, girl," he murmurs to Roach, patting the spot next to Jaskier. Roach jumps up, turns in an awkward circle, then flops down next to Jaskier, back against his chest. Jaskier hums in his sleep and reaches out to her, sliding his fingers into her fur and exhaling as he burrows deeper into the bed.

Geralt scratches Roach's ears, then leans down and presses his forehead to hers. It's their comfort signal, something he's gotten used to doing every evening before he falls asleep with her curled up next to him. Then Geralt looks up at Jaskier's sleeping face, and before he realizes what he's doing, he moves up and presses a kiss to Jaskier's forehead.

His cheeks immediately start to burn, and he pulls away, ignoring the curious look Roach gives him.

"Stay with him, okay?" Geralt says as he stands. Roach shuffles closer to Jaskier and rests her head on his chest. "Keep him safe."

Geralt wanders back out into the living room and closes the bedroom door, then flicks on the light and surveys the apartment. It's complete chaos – just like Jaskier's mind right now, Geralt thinks.

He starts with the living room. It's calming, almost – collecting the dirty dishes, running the dishwasher, wiping down the counter. He picks up the clothes that are scattered around the room and takes them to the laundry room, then opens all the windows to air out the stifling warmth. The fridge is full of expired food, so he clears it out, taking it to the garbage and making a list of everything that needs to be replaced.

Jaskier is still sleeping by nearly nine, so Geralt texts Yenn.

Are you busy?

Just out with Triss. Is Jaskier okay?

Not really. Could you guys bring coffee and breakfast?

Usually Yenn would come back with something snarky, but instead she says, We'll be there in an hour or so.

Geralt tucks his phone into his pocket, looking back at the bedroom. He's not sure if inviting more people over is a good idea, but he's also not confident that he can deal with this all on his own. Plus, Jaskier trusts Triss and Yenn.

He's halfway through folding the laundry when he hears a sleepy sound from the bedroom door and Roach trots over to him, nosing at the shirts on the table. When Geralt looks over, Jaskier is standing there, sleeves covering his hands, eyes on the floor.

"Hey." Geralt feels awkward, suddenly – like he's intruded somewhere he shouldn't have. He'd assumed he was helping, but he's suddenly struck with the worry that maybe Jaskier doesn't want his help.

Jaskier doesn't answer, just shuffles over to the couch and stands awkwardly next to Geralt, picking nervously at a loose thread on his sleeve. Roach nudges Jaskier's hands and gives him a small, quiet woof, then looks up at Geralt.

He nods, then holds one arm out to Jaskier in an offer of a hug. Jaskier immediately leans in, pressing his face to Geralt's chest as Geralt wraps both arms around him. It feels like they've been doing this forever.

"'m sorry," Jaskier mumbles into Geralt's sweater. "You didn't have to..."

"I wanted to," Geralt reassures him, hoping that Jaskier can hear all the things he wants to say but can't. "How are you feeling?"

Jaskier sighs, shifting out of Geralt's embrace and rubbing his eyes. "I dunno," he says. "Hungry."

Geralt hesitates. "Yenn and Triss are bringing over food and coffee," he says carefully. A guarded expression creeps across Jaskier's face and Geralt quickly says, "If you don't want—I just thought..." He sighs, settling down on the couch and gesturing for Jaskier to sit next to him. "Yenn… when I... after the accident. Things—everything, it was a lot. I wasn't good."

Geralt shifts uncomfortably, thinking about the weeks of anger, the bitter guilt, the thoughts that had consumed him – it should have been me, I wish it had been me, I want to die, I want to die, I want to die.

And then Yennefer had shown up, even though they'd broken up months before the accident had happened, and she'd pulled him out of it. She'd forced him to eat, driven him to physio, brought Roach back into his life.

"Yenn helped, then," he says roughly. "I know you two... you're..."

"Bitches to each other?" Jaskier suggests, and Geralt's relieved to see a hint of a smile cross his face.

"You don't mean it, though," Geralt says. "Not really." Jaskier nods.

They sit quietly for a while, and Roach hops up on the couch next to Jaskier and nuzzles his hand until he starts to pet her. Geralt's phone buzzes and a text from Yenn pops up on the screen.

Be there in 20.

Geralt watches Jaskier's expression carefully, but it's hard to figure out how he's feeling. Eventually Jaskier nods.

"I should probably…" He gestures down at his dishevelled appearance.

"Go shower," Geralt says, gesturing to the bathroom. "You'll feel better." Jaskier chews his lip and stares down at his wrists. Geralt's sure he should know what that means, but he's so lost again – out of his element. "What's wrong?"

"I… there's…" Jas's voice is small and uncertain. "Sharp things."

Oh.

"In the bathroom?"

Jaskier nods miserably.

"Do you want me to go move them?"

Another nod.

"Okay. Stay here with Roach."

Roach's tail thumps against the couch cushions and Jaskier leans into her again, pressing his face against her fur as she licks his cheeks.

Geralt tidies up the mess in the bathroom as methodically as the rest of the house, packing up everything into a small box he found and taping it shut before throwing it in the hallway garbage. Then he turns on the shower and returns to the couch, reaching out for Jaskier's hands and pulling him to his feet.

"Will you be okay by yourself?" he asks.

Jaskier nods. His cheeks are red and Geralt can't tell if it's from crying or if he's embarrassed. "Yeah, I'll… it's fine."

"Roach can come with you," Geralt suggests, and she immediately jumps down from the couch and trots toward the bathroom like she knows exactly what he's talking about. She probably does.

Geralt finishes folding the laundry while Jaskier's in the shower, and when he peeks his head out, Geralt hands him a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants. "Do you need help?" he asks, gesturing to Jaskier's arm.

"Yes."

Geralt finds a first aid kit under the sink and motions for Jaskier to sit on the couch with him. Jaskier hesitates, and Geralt recognizes the expression of shame on his face.

"It's okay," he says, reaching out for Jaskier's arm.

Geralt's heart sinks – it's more than just the one cut. Geralt's not used to being gentle, but he tries his best to keep his hands steady and soft as he wraps up the wounds. Jaskier is on the edge of tears again by the time Geralt finishes, and Geralt squeezes his hands gently, trying to figure out how to make it better.

"Here," he says, tugging off his sweater and handing it to Jaskier. He's not sure why, but he has a feeling it might help. Jaskier looks surprised, but he nods and pulls it on with Geralt's help, careful not to pull at the bandage.

Seeing Jaskier in his clothes does something funny to Geralt's stomach.

"Thank you," Jaskier whispers, curling up against the back of the couch and looking away from Geralt. "I'm sorry."

Geralt sets the first aid kit on the table, then shifts toward Jaskier, holding out an arm until Jaskier shifts forward and curls up against him again. It feels comfortable and familiar, and when Jaskier starts to cry again, Geralt pulls him close and runs a hand up and down his back.

"I hate this," Jaskier says between quiet sobs. "I hate it, I don't want—I didn't mean to, and I felt so… I wanted to—to talk to you, and to tell you but it's h-hard and I just get c-caught in this spiral, and it feels like nobody—that I'm a burden on everyone…"

Geralt can hear the panic start to take over Jaskier's voice and he shushes him gently, moving his hand up to Jaskier's hair and running his fingers through the damp curls. Jaskier shivers.

"I'm sorry," Geralt says, because he doesn't know what else to say. He tucks Jaskier's hair behind his ear, and then, very carefully, presses a kiss to Jaskier's forehead.

Jaskier stills and Geralt's heart stutters, terrified he's misread the situation or overstepped Jaskier's boundaries. But instead of pulling away, Jaskier sighs and leans heavily against Geralt, hand splayed across his chest over the slow thump of his heart.

"Thank you," Jaskier murmurs.

Geralt nods as relief floods through him. "I'm not great at talking," he says roughly as he keeps running his fingers through Jaskier's hair. "But I can listen."

Yennefer and Triss arrive not long after, and Geralt pointedly ignores the look Yenn gives him when she sees Jaskier curled up in his arms. Triss immediately heads for the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and unpacking the boxes from the café.

"Hey," Yenn says, crouching down in front of the couch. Jaskier won't look at her but she doesn't force him to. Instead she rests her hand on his knee and squeezes, waiting patiently for him to say a quiet hi back. "Do you have meds you're supposed to be taking?" she asks. The question is blunt, but her tone is kind.

Jaskier nods. "In the kitchen, by the microwave."

"Okay." Yenn disappears for a moment, then reappears with a handful of pills and a glass of water. Jaskier takes them reluctantly.

"Geralt, can you help Triss?" Yenn raises an eyebrow at Geralt and tips her head toward the kitchen. Geralt is reluctant to let go of Jaskier, but he trusts Yenn, so he squeezes Jaskier's shoulder and then heads over to Triss.

"How's he doing?" she asks, handing Geralt a box of croissants and a knife. He looks down at the sharp blade and there's a twinge in his chest – maybe he should have collected and hidden all the knives, too. He's halfway through cutting the croissants before he realizes that he hasn't answered Triss' question.

"I don't know," he says honestly.

"You're a good friend," Triss says, brushing her arm against his as she fills four mugs with coffee. She gives him a soft smile that he's pretty sure is supposed to be reassuring and he quickly turns back to the croissants. He can just hear Yennefer's soft voice coming from the living room.

"… didn't do anything wrong. Nobody's angry with you."

Jaskier sniffs. "I feel stupid," he says softly.

"I know," Yennefer says. Geralt hasn't heard her voice this gentle in a long, long time. "But you're not stupid. You're hurting."

It takes Geralt back to years ago; to him and Yennefer sitting in the dark on his bedroom floor, pressed up against the wall after waking up in a cold sweat. You're not worthless, she'd said. It wasn't your fault. People care about you.

"You're not alone," Yenn says to Jaskier, and when Geralt looks over he's surprised to see Jaskier resting his head on Yenn's shoulder.

"I know."

By the time they're done getting breakfast ready, Jaskier is almost smiling. Triss sets the croissants and coffee on the table, along with a bouquet of buttercups that she's arranged in a vase. Roach sniffs them curiously and Geralt gives her a look.

"Those aren't for you," he rumbles, and she looks chastised, but immediately perks up when Triss slips her a piece of croissant.

As soon as Geralt sits down next to Jaskier, he shuffles closer, and Geralt wraps an arm around him again, handing him a cup of coffee. "Thanks," he says, burrowing closer before taking a sip. The closeness makes Geralt's heart ache a little less, and he absently runs his fingers up and down Jaskier's arm as Triss holds out the plate of croissants.

"Chocolate or plain?" she asks. Jaskier looks like he's going to refuse so Geralt grabs one instead, tearing it in half and putting it in Jaskier's hand. Jaskier sighs but takes a small bite.

"So," Yennefer says, settling cross-legged on the floor and taking a sip of her coffee. "You missed quite a customer at the café this morning. He had a parakeet, just sitting on his shoulder, and he'd taught it how to order his coffee."

Geralt's not sure what the point of the story is until he sees a small smile creep across Jaskier's face.

"We weren't sure if we should kick him out or not," Triss adds, "because it wasn't really doing anything, and I have no idea if the health code includes birds."

"And the bird did say please," Yenn adds, laughing. Jaskier huffs out a quiet laugh of his own and the sound fills Geralt with a contented warmth.

They spend a long time talking about nothing. Triss tells them about the new plants in her garden while Yenn gossips about customers at the café. After a while, Jaskier starts to add his own comments, and by the time dinnertime rolls around, it feels like he's nearly back to normal.

They order pizza, and then Triss challenges everyone to a game of Mariokart, which Geralt loses soundly. Jaskier stays pressed against his side as he grumbles about the controls and cuddles even closer when they decide to watch a movie. Yenn makes them all popcorn and when Jaskier grabs a piece and puts it up to Geralt's lips, he doesn't think twice about taking it.

"You two are so sweet, it's disgusting," Yenn says, tipping her head back against the couch and rolling her eyes at them upside-down. Jaskier retaliates by sticking out his tongue and tossing a piece of popcorn at her forehead. Geralt notices that he doesn't argue with her, though.

Eventually Yennefer and Triss fall asleep on the other couch, tangled up in each other with Roach wedged between them. The movie credits roll quietly and Geralt is suddenly very aware of each place that he and Jaskier are touching. Neither of them moves, and after a minute Jaskier takes Geralt's hand and starts to trace gentle patterns across his palm.

"I feel better," Jaskier says softly. His voice feels out of place in the soft dark of the apartment and Geralt unconsciously pulls him closer. "Not completely, but…" Jaskier leans back against Geralt's shoulder and looks at him. "Thank you."

Geralt's about to answer when Jaskier tips his head up and presses their lips together. It can barely be called a kiss – the touch is feather light and lasts only a few seconds, but it's enough to send Geralt's heart thrumming beneath Jaskier's fingertips on his wrist.

"Oh," Jaskier says, as if he's been taken off guard by his own actions.

"Oh," Geralt repeats.

A soft silence hangs between them for moment, and eventually Jaskier says, "I know it's—that's probably bad timing. I don't want you to think it's just because…"

"I know," Geralt says, because no matter how hard he tries, he can't pretend that he hasn't been in love with Jaskier since the day they met.

"Do you…" Jaskier hesitates, pulling Geralt's hand close to his chest and running his thumb over Geralt's knuckles. "When I'm feeling better, do you…"

"Yes." Geralt kisses Jaskier's forehead again, then wraps both arms around him, pulling him down until they're lying on the couch and Jaskier's tucked under his chin. Jaskier sighs happily, tucking his knee between Geralt's legs and nuzzling his neck. "Go to sleep," Geralt says softly. "I've got you."

As Jaskier's breathing evens out into sleep again, Geralt feels a warm sense of relief and fondness spread through his chest.

Jaskier is going to be okay.