CW // sensory overload, ableism(? Maybe? Unsure if it counts), mentions of puking and gore, dissociating
Dave's so-called 'Aubergine Charm' is just ADHD. It's the 80's. That was not normalized back then, so it was pretty much impossible to get a diagnosis. Also, he wouldn't pay for one. And he's probably banned from all hospitals in a few states. Yeah. And Jack just doesn't quite care enough to look into 'whatever weird brain thing' he has. He thinks it's just the after-effects of being revived. He refuses to admit that his sensory issues were present even before he died.
I HAVE TWO SIDES:
"Guys please dont attack me for dumping all of my autistic troubles onto Jack🥺" and "I AM THE AUTHOR, FUCK IT!"
He/him for Steven and Jack, any for Dave
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"Old Sport."
"Old Sport."
"Old Sport..?"
There is nothing but silence from Jack. He's staring down at the table he's sitting at. Dave had just happened to notice. Dave sat down with Jack in the booth. The dining area was noisy, and Dave was kind of irritated by everything too, but not to the point where it was getting to be too much. He could differentiate when something would be too overwhelming for him to do tasks, and when it would be just mild enough for him to work. His 'aubergine charm' has it's pros and cons.
Jack clearly could not.
Dave stayed sitting with the clementine man. He looked over to check on the definitely overwhelmed Jack. Said man was staring off, swaying ever so slightly, and his leg was bouncing.His eyes were bloodshot, as if he lacked sleep. If Dave didn't know the man better, he would've thought Jack was having some kind of psychotic break.
But he does know Jack.
So he knows Jack is just overwhelmed.
He reaches out for Jack, and the other flinches away. Dave drops his hand and looks away again. They sit in a silence. Dave glances at the clock, sees that it's 3:40, and decides he can stay for just a little bit longer before that suited phone-head is going to lecture them. Guess not, though, as Steven was already behind the two.
"Employees. What are you two doing? It's still business hours." Steven said, quickly walking over to the two. He waved his hands around animatedly, as if to exaggerate his point. Dave shot a glance at Jack, saw he was still overwhelmed and unresponsive, then looked back to his phone-headed boss. Steven spoke over him. "Just get back to work, you two." He said, and snapped his fingers in front of Jack's face, making him flinch and 'come back to reality'. He ended up looking more distressed. Steven walked off.
Dave offered to help get Jack out of the booth, but Jack simply brushed him off, now more
attentive, but still unresponsive. Dave frowned as his orange baby walked away from him, off to the safe room.
He followed Jack, silently worried. "Old sport, are y-" He started. "Just shut up just shut up shut up shut up, shut up, Dave!" Jack finally spoke, facing Dave, glaring. He said nothing else. Neither did Dave. There was a long, tense silence. Dave fumbled with his hands. Jack put on the Cool Cat suit and left. Dave put on the other suit but lingered in the safe room for a little while longer.
Meanwhile, Jack was having the worst work-day of his life.
He was two seconds away from strangling a kid. He hated having to keep up that cheery Cool Cat voice. He hated having to hold himself back from shushing kids as they just kept screaming. How haven't their vocal cords, like, shattered or whatever? He hated kids. He wanted to peel off his face. Every little noise was getting to him. He was starting to just get pissed off. He refused to speak if he didn't have to. He just knew he was going to lash out at someone. He kind of snapped at Dave, and he didn't want to do that again. He would apologize later. Right now, though, he had to simply do his job.
"Hey kids! I'm Cool Cat!" He called out, although the feeling of speaking made him want to puke and sob and rip his face off and tear apart the muscles in his face.
"Hi, Cool Cat." The crowd of children replied in sync and monotone.
"Um- Wh- Uh, you guys want pizza?" Jack offered, since he had noticed the pizza he'd prepared earlier was lying on a counter by Matt. The pizza was most likely infected by Matt's...whatever he had...but kids eat whatever.
"Pizza!" The crowd of children cheered in sync again. Jack promptly snatched the plate of pizza away from Matt, also while glaring at him, and set the plate down on a nearby table by the kids. The children ravaged the pizza, distracted enough for Jack to slip away.
He was so done. So damn done with Fazbender's. He wanted to shake someone by the shoulders and tell them to rip up that stupid contract so he never had to come back. He wanted to tackle everyone here into the ground.
While he internally screamed and ranted, of course [his] that purple weirdo decided to show up. "Sportsy, you don't look okay. You look high as shit. Did you smoke weed? When did you get the time to? I want some. Oh, or are ya' still overwhelmed an' stuff? I don't really know how that works. You do that a lot. Think you'll be fine an' stuff, then you're not. I used to do that but then I-"
Jack simply tuned out Dave's rambling, staring at his gold badge. He liked seeing it shine and twinkle whenever Dave moved. He could barely make out any other noises, but he knew that they fucking bothered him. "Sport? Sportsy. Ssssspppppooooorrrrrtttttsssssyyyyyy. Hey. Hey, look at me. Hey. Hey. Hey. Steven's talkin' to ya'. Old Sport!" Dave shook Jack by the shoulders and pointed to Steven. "Employee, the customers are starting to find you odd since you keep staring off. Consider this a warning. Fix it, or else."
Jack barely registered the words he said after Steven lectured him, but they definitely weren't good, since when he drifted back to consciousness, he was holding a pink slip, labeled;
"YOU SCREAMED A TON OF SHIT AT A MANAGER. GET OUT. thanks, mngmt."
"You went off on phone-face, Sportsy, I gotta respect that." Dave's NY accent stood out. "Wha-" Jack mumbled, looking over. He tried to register his surroundings, but his head was still cloudy. "You're jus' at home, layin' in ya' bed, I'm right next to ya'. Clear up ya' vision, Sportsy, your pupils are, like, pink-ish. You still look high." Dave said with a chuckle. Jack rubbed his eyes, and he could see a lot better. Jack groaned. "I highly doubt I can help you out with your handy-dandy three step plan now, Davey." He apologized. "Eh, whatever, you did most of it. We'll still go to Vegas, if you're there for the finale or not." Dave shrugged.
Jack stared up at the ceiling. Popcorn ceiling. He always wanted to smoothen out the ceiling, to pick out the little pieces of 'popcorn' up there, dusty and painted white. He imagined reaching his hand up and just peeling it all off. He scratched at his forehead, wanting to peel that off too. He didn't have to guts to do it, though. He didn't want to rip his face off and bleed all over Dave. That'd be weird. Dave would never speak to him again. Maybe he wouldn't have to, since Jack's injuries would be too severe. Would peeling off someone's face be a fatal injury? Jack kept on wondering. He kept on thinking. Would-
"Sportsy! Hey! Ya' zoned out on me." Dave shook Jack by the shoulders. "Hm?" Jack looked over.
"I swear, sports, you're such a weirdo." Dave said, smiling.
"I could say the same to you."
Jack retorted,tugging at the blanket. Dave pulled it back. "Hey-" He muttered. The two fought over the blanket for a little while longer, until Jack managed to tug it away. "I win." He sneered. "Sore winner." Dave said back, though all bark and no bite. The aubergine just snuggled up to the shorter and just nuzzled into his neck. Jack rolled his eyes light-heartedly and spoke softly.
"Dave, you are a complete and utter weirdo."
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If I missed a warning or tagged it wrong, please tell me! I am happy to fix it. Reader safety is very important to me.
[I am very pathetically asking for comments. They motivate me. Drop a heart or a smiley face, just something, please. /nf]
Word count: 1425
