Number 6, please! Make it super angsty, you can choose it to be egobang if you wish!
6: “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
Egobang (Content warning: violence, blood, hate crime, homophobic slurs, overuse of the word sob.)
Dan is on the ground when Arin finds him. He’s leaning against the wall, head bowed, his body crumpled up unnaturally. Arin’s heart skips a beat when he sees him, fearing the worst.
“Dan!” he yells, his voice cracking as he rushes over.
The older man looks up at the sound of his name, and for a moment, Arin feels a rush of relief. Until he gets close enough to see Dan’s face.
“What happened to you?” Arin asks. His voice might be louder now than when he was looking for him, walking the streets in this strange city and yelling his name. “You’re– Jesus, you’re fucking bleeding–”
But that’s not all, Arin realizes. He collapses on the ground in front of him, instinctively covering Dan from the outside world, and as he does, he gets a closer look at his face. In the evening darkness, Arin can just make it out. He’s bruised, his lip is busted in two places, there’s a cut above his eyebrow. And he’s crying.
He’s not making a sound, but tears are streaming down his face, and every few breaths he takes is labored and shuddery. He reaches out and grasps Arin’s hoodie with both hands, choking out words that Arin can’t understand, burying his face in Arin’s neck.
Arin almost can’t believe that a few hours ago, they were laughing in the lobby of the hotel, figuring out where to meet for dinner.
He feels a warm wave of regret wash over him as he remembers. This was his fault. He’d waited too long at the restaurant before looking. He should have texted him sooner. He should have insisted on going with him to the pharmacy, instead of letting Dan walk alone in a city they didn’t know. Once he started worrying about where Dan was, it was already too late.
“What happened?” he asks Dan again. He’s trying not to sound angry, because he’s not - not at Dan.
“I don’t know,” Dan chokes out, the first words Arin can understand. “They wanted to hurt me. They knew– how did they know?”
“People did this to you?” Arin asks for clarification. “Multiple people?”
“They were men. Four of them. Not huge. Smaller than me. But they knew? They were so angry with me, and they wanted to hurt me, I thought they were going to kill me, Arin, I’m sorry, I thought I was going to–”
But that’s all Arin can understand before Dan starts choking, his voice lost again to the sobs.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Arin says softly. He gently wraps his arms around Dan, shivering and still clutching his hoodie. He can feel the man’s staggered breath against his chest. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”
As he says this, Dan jerks away sharply.
“But what about me?” he asks, eyes red and wild. “Who will I hurt?”
Arin falters, letting go of Dan as the man pulls away. There’s an ache where his body was just a moment ago.
“I don’t understan–”
“I hurt them, Arin,” Dan says. He bows his head again, and his voice is so quiet. “I hurt one of them pretty bad.”
Behind them, a car passes. The headlights briefly illuminate their spot on the ground, and Arin can see Dan clearly for the first time. He looks terrified. And it’s not just his face that’s bloody. So are his knuckles.
Dan flinches away from the light, and then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the car is gone, and the two of them are alone again on the street.
“I’m sure it was in self defense,” Arin says, finally. He doesn’t know what else to say.
“It’s not self defense if I wanted to do it,” Dan mutters.
It takes Arin a moment to fully put all the words together into something that means anything, but even before he fully understands, he starts shaking his head.
“No way,” he says. “No way. You’re D//aniel A//vidan, you’d never–”
“What, hurt someone?” Dan shouts. The effort of it seems to rock him, and he brings a bloody fist to his mouth to feel a cut on his lip. When he pulls it away, he examines it, like it’s a mildly interesting book, and not his own blood that he’s studying. After a few seconds, he slams his fist onto his knee.
“How would you know what I’m capable of, Arin? Just a few hours ago, I didn’t even know.”
Arin watches, heart pounding.
“What are you capable of, Dan?” he asks, softly. His voice is thick. He thinks he might be about to cry.
“Capable of beating the shit out of four guys. Four assholes,” Dan corrects himself. His voice is lowering as he speaks, dropping into a gravelly level. He sounds exhausted. “They followed me back from the pharmacy.”
“What did they want?” Arin asks. “Drugs?”
Dan shakes his head, and the tears start to fall again.
“No,” he says, his hair falling over his voice. His voice is strained and cracks. “They thought I was going to some– I don’t know where, but they thought I was– they KNEW that I am–”
But he can’t get the words out, and the sobs take over again.
Arin reaches out. Grabs Dan’s hands and squeezes. He’s desperately seeking the other man’s face, but it’s hidden by the dark and the hair and the tears.
But at his touch, Dan seems to rally, and he takes a huge gasp of air before continuing.
“They started following me,” Dan says, quickly. He’s racing to get the words out. “They asked if I was going to some club, and I said no, I’m meeting a friend for dinner– I shouldn’t have said anything, if I hadn’t–”
“Dan.”
“Right. Anyway. They asked if they could– if they could join? I just laughed. But then the leader, I guess, the biggest one, he stepped in front–” here Dan starts speaking so quickly that Arin almost can’t understand him, “–and asked me whatsofunnyfaggot.”
Then he stops, like he’s waiting for something. Arin can hear him panting.
“They… wait,” Arin says, putting it together. “Wait, they thought you were gay?”
Dan shrugs.
“They–” his voice cracks. He starts over. “They kept calling me faggot. Queer. They– it made me so mad, Arin.”
“Of course it did,” Arin “These assclowns were harassing you because they thought you were gay. That’s like on another level of fucked up–”
“No,” Dan interrupts, quietly. “That’s not why.”
Arin stares at him. Their hands are still clasped, and Dan seems to realize that too, because he starts to pull them back, but Arin holds them tigher.
“Arin,” Dan says, his voice warning.
“Dan,” Arin parrots. Like he’s joking.
But he’s not smiling.
He can’t smile. His veins are filled with ice. His whole body is frozen, except for where his hands touch Dan’s. There it burns like fire.
“I was so mad,” Dan laughs. It’s bitter. “I kicked his fucking ass because I was so pissed that he knew.”
“What did he know?” Arin asks.
He knows the answer.
“My whole life, I’ve tried to pretend it isn’t there,” Dan continues, like he didn’t hear. “I was so scared– I was positive that if people found out, if they knew, they’d hate me.”
He laughs again, less angry this time. Arin just stares, alarmed.
“And these guys? They hated me anyway. They knew just by looking at me.”
Then Dan pulls Arin close, yanking him off his knees, and he’s falling against Dan. He breathes in, surprised, and he can smell the sweat and blood and everything.
“And I just thought about you – about how you were the only one who really matters and you didn’t even know, and these assholes did – and I just started swinging.”
“And then they kicked your ass?” Arin ventures. There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow.
“I thought I’d kill him,” Dan whispers. “I wanted to kill him. I just wanted to see you again, to tell you how I feel–”
“Shh,” Arin says, cutting him off. “They’re gone now.”
“There were too many of them, I couldn’t fight– but I’m glad, I just… they wanted to hurt me so bad, Arin.”
“They’re gone now,” Arin repeats, bringing Dan’s fingers to his lips. “They’re gone now, and I’m here. And you can tell me whatever you want to tell me.”
